




» ♦ • I. « 





I 

I 

1 

I 

I 



Class " PZ-T 
Rnn k 3 



COPXBIGHT DEPOSm 



4 















I . : - ■ m ■ • :::: V f^M'-vv: 

ii- ■- '■'•1 ,i'fV. j'iv' ,7. 

7¥‘-; -■ '■ ■•• ■• ..•■■■ ■' v-'.t ^r.'; s.)-',';-;* •'- '■ : 








r'' ■;, ■ '«Vi: ■'■ '■ ilSiila ■ 

.■ '■•'I’' ..l\fi^r ". ■ ■ V.'... ' t''' 


.V • 4 


7 .s (rv, 


.fV 







: : 4 l 


I ■ 


4%' 





m^i ' n r'vi » 

>. - ■, 


»i.^r /-.r ■. ■• 

OTjJ.rn- ‘ ■•> V- " . 


t ^ 1 '] 

>V^ •, /; 


«'>’ 


^ vv;' . •^., V^.:' ... :-rV‘ 


> f;v- ^-y;. 


I'" *.». 


•;\T' 


\'\ 






yftViUiA 




"I 




1^: 




'X.^a 


c^?v* 


i - 




'■ a;, 


• <rjj 









\ 




1 


The Boys’ Big Game Series 


The 

Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 


» »• I 



r 

f 


• * 


• — .-1 


> 


4 





• t 
k 

« 


i 


t 


« 


4 * 






r 



:U. 




k 


k* 




Vs^ 



\ 



♦ 


« 


A 





I 


». 

/ 


V 


% 


I 

/ 




i 

' • * 

r *t' > 7 ft 



I. 




“The Dragon’s Nest” — Chapter XXI 



The Lady Dragon 
oJ Dancing Point 

By 

EVAN R. CHESTERMAN 

Illustrated by 
Harry W. Armstrong 



The Reilly & Lee Co. 

Chicago 


Printed in the United States of America 



c 

Copyright, 
b y 

19 2 2 


The Reilly & Lee Co. 
All Rights Reserved 

\ 

The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 

m 1922 


©aA681660 

•O-M* I /' 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEB PAGE 


I Niggek, the Outlaw, Comes to Geiee 9 
II Rescue Wokk oh the Wholesale 

Plan 20 

in The Geave Gives Up Its Dead 31 

IV What the Newspapee Said Next 

Day 38 

V Ham Heaes About A Deagon. . . 47 

VI The ‘^Eesueeectionist^^ Who 

WouLDN^T Fight 56 

VII A Battle on the Wateefeont 68 

VIII Billy Mahone Tackles A Giant ... 77 
IX Buck Pays A Visit in ‘‘Stoke 

Clothes 88 

X “Mishe-Nahma, King op Fishes . 98 


XI Uncle Ben Talks of Dancing Point.106 
XII The Cow Stuegeon Gets Busy 115 

XIII Gumbo Lifts the Lid Off a Mon- 

STEK .126 

XIV Some Footpeints That Had ’Em 

Guessing 135 

XV What Became of Those Floeida 

Tuktles*? 145 

XVT Blood Flows on Chickahominy’s 

S HOKES 153 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

XVII 

XVIII 

XIX 


XX 

XXI 

XXII 

XXIII 

XXIV 
XXV 

XXVI 

XXVII 


PAGE 

Comfort Found in a Black Foot . . . 164 
Secrets Overheard in the Stable. 172 
Why the Veteran Hated Morgan- 

FTELD 180 

An Invisible Cow Bellows in the 

Mud 191 

The Dragon Puts All to Flight. .200 
A Stranger Comes to Spoil the 

Fun 212 

A Fighting Savage Drops From 

Nowhere 217 

A Sinner Scared Into Being Good. 228 
A Good Mother Gives Up the Ghost.235 
Simeon Hawkins, Jokesmith, Apol- 
ogizes 243 

We Meet Old Friends At a Circus. 250 


The Lady Dragon 

of Dancing Point 

CHAPTER I 

NIGGER, THE OUTLAW, COMES TO GRIEF 

Fashions in dogs change pretty much as they 
do in hats, cravats, shoes, trousers, the length 
and width of women’s skirts and the kind of 
automobile one longs to have. Some of us old- 
timers can recall the successive reigns of the fox- 
hound, the Spitz, the rat terrier, the greyhound, 
the poodle, the spaniel, the pug, the fox terrier, 
the Boston bull and the bristly Airedale. 

This story, which harks back into the past of 
forty-two or more years ago, marks the era of 
the noble Newfoundland, who long held sway in 
9 


10 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the hearts of all American children. The par- 
ticular Newfoundland we are to know here, 
though black as night, was of a sunny disposi- 
tion, and had no real enemies save the alley cats 
in the neighborhood where he frisked. Some- 
what appropriately he had been named Nigger. 

Nigger, it goes without saying, had a boy mas- 
ter. This master was fourteen years old and 
had name enough to kill him. In the family 
Bible record the boy was mentioned as Hamilton 
Bacon Willingham, which, according to the youth 
himself, was sufficient to knock a Muscovy 
drake off his feet.” Fortunately friends and 
relatives had trimmed the whole business down 
to Ham.” It’s hog meat all the way through 
— that name,” said a witty boy, whose nose 
thereupon had promptly been punched by young 
Mister Willingham. 

Like his dog. Ham, though altogether lov- 
able, was constantly getting into scrapes. Things 
would go wrong even when the kid was trying to 
capture some of the chromos offered by the Pres- 
byterian Sunday school. 

To tell the truth, neither the boy nor the dog 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 11 

dared to look a policeman in the face. Both were 
haunted by a perpetual sense of guilt. As a mat- 
ter of fact, each in a way was a violator of the 
law. In a word, Nigger was unlicensed and wore 
no tag as did the pampered pups of better-regu- 
lated and more prosperous families. Every day 
the dog lived he cheated the city of Eichmond, 
Virginia, out of a part of the dollar annually due 
the town as a tax on his existence. 

There is little doubt that Nigger experienced a 
sense of shame each time he met a properly 
tagged tail-wagger, and it is equally certain that 
Ham felt twinges of uneasiness whenever the 
subject of tags, directly or indirectly, was 
brought up. The pity of it was that Ham, always 
a spendthrift, could never quite raise the dollar 
that would have bought a dog license and made 
his four -legged chum an honest-to-goodness 
citizen. 

We get our first glimpse of Hamilton Bacon 
Willingham on a bright June morning at 7 
o’clock in the year 1880, just after the public 
schools had closed, and thousands of happy pu- 
pils throughout the land had thrown aside as 


12 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

many well-thumbed, dog-eared, pencil-scratched 
copies of McGuffey’s highly moral series of 
school readers. 

There was almost every reason for the boy 
to he happy, even though he was far too fat for 
his years and had to hear endless tiresome jokes 
about his chubbiness. But it was to be a troub- 
lous day for him despite his sense of freedom, 
the radiance of the summer sunshine and the 
‘‘scrumptious” waffles and maple syrup he had 
for breakfast. 

Having gulped down his meal, all deaf to the 
protests of a good mother who invariably be- 
sought him not to bolt his food. Ham snatched 
up his cap and sauntered out into the open. 
Hardly had he reached the sidewalk ere he saw 
a sight that froze the very marrow in his bones. 

Far down the street, followed by a throng of 
children, moved a barred, two-horse wagon, very 
shabby and rusty, but in shape and size almost 
the exact counterpart of the cage wagons used 
by circuses as “dens” for their wild beasts. 
Through the bars of this odd vehicle could be 
recognized the shapes of several animals, while 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 13 

beside the team walked two men with huge nets 
fastened on poles. 

‘‘ Dog-catchers I ’’ gasped Ham, addressing no- 
body in particular. All too well he knew what 
the rolling prison portended. Like every other 
boy and girl in the city he had seen that wagon 
with its piteous freight before. Like every other 
youngster, too, he had been told that no unli- 
censed dog thrust behind its bars ever lived to 
tell the tale — that each and every pup captured 
was gassed the very day of its capture and forth- 
with turned into soap grease. 

‘‘Ain’t it orful? ” wheezed a voice into the ear 
of Ham almost before the fat lad had sensed the 
approach of a fellow mortal. “ I say, ain’t it 
orful? They’ve done gone and scooped up yer 
good ole pup, Nigger, and they got that stub- 
tail yaller dog. Slops, that lived ’round the cor- 
ner, too.” 

The speaker was ‘ ‘ Snaggle-Tooth ’ ’ Perkins, a 
fascinating but not beautiful young American, 
who had crowded a heap of wicked activity into 
his short life of thirteen years and eleven months. 
Snag, as he was known for short, did everything 


14 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

he oughtn’t to do but usually shied at the per- 
formance of duties that might have made him 
respectable. Nevertheless, he was kind, loyal 
and courageous. 

Most hoys got whaled for associating with 
Snag, who lived “ just two doors above ” the 
Willinghams. But Ham was more fortunate. 
The Widow Willingham, who was a dressmaker 
and, though very poor, proud of her family con- 
nections, recognized much good in Snag. He did 
her countless favors. 

On hearing the appalling news as to the fate 
of Nigger, Ham made no attempt to conceal the 
tears that were fast dimming his eyes. Under 
ordinary circumstances he would have died 
rather than weep before Snag, hut somehow he 
now knew that his friend would sympathize with 
him and that no amount of blubbering would 
bring him into contempt. 

Snag, we gotta save that there dorg no mat- 
ter what busts loose,” sobbed Ham, yes, even 
if I go to the penitentiary for it. Nigger ain’t 
never harmed a flea, let alone a human being 
(here Ham entirely forgot about many perse- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 15 

cuted cats) and if they make soap grease outer 
him, it^s gotta be over my dead body/’ 

‘‘ Whatcher goin’ do to stop ’em? bluntly 
asked Snag, who had a practical mind. Talk- 
in’ is one thing and doin’ another. If they find 
out he’s your dorg, they’U send you to the peni- 
tentiary anyhow for not gittin’ a license for him. 
Seems to me you’d better be layin’ low.” 

Well, I ain’t goin’ to lay low a minute, peni- 
tentiary or no penitentiary,” wailed Ham, and 
I’ll die before I let a soul harm a hair on Nig- 
ger’s body.” 

Snag thoughtfully spat through his front teeth 
— an accomplishment envied by every boy of his 
acquaintance — then brusquely replied, “ Stand- 
in’ here sniffling and chewin’ the rag don’t get 
us nowhere. We gotta be doin’ sump thin’. Let’s 
follow the wagon, anyhow; maybe some idea will 
pop into my coco.” 

So follow the wagon they did, though it was 
a wearisome, heartrending job which did not 
become more agreeable as the sun’s heat in- 
creased. What hurt the most was the sight of 
Nigger there in the cage with all sorts of com- 


16 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

mon curs and mongrels — yes, Nigger, the thois 
oughbred, with a pedigree almost as long as the 
family tree of the Widow Willingham was tall. 
Great was the snarling and snapping and growl- 
ing and sniffing that went on among the restless 
captives, hut the stately Newfoundland kept aloof 
from it all. Seated in a comer with a kingly dig- 
nity he made his presence felt and dared his vul- 
gar associates to become familiar. 

Only when the big animal sensed the approach 
of Ham and Snag did Nigger evince the slight- 
est interest in things about him. Then he 
pounded the floor of the wagon with his bushy 
tail and stooped to lick a somewhat pudgy and 
decidedly dirty hand that had been shoved be- 
tween the bars to caress him. It was his mas- 
ter’s kindly hand. 

Break away from them there dorgs,” harshly 
cried one of the net bearers, and then, noting the 
heftyness of Ham, he added, Git on home, you 
great big lummux.” 

Now Ham could stand a great deal, but to be 
called a lummux,” which in that day was a sort 
of slang word meaning a clumsy, awkward fool. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 17 

proved too much for his patience. Fighting mad 
and ready to tackle a buzz saw, he yelled back at 
the dog-catcher, ‘ ‘ Dern your buttons — ’ ’ 

Just at this juncture and before any terrible 
word was uttered. Ham felt a restraining hand 
on his arm. It was Snag’s and for once that 
young man was proving himself discreet. ‘ ‘ Close 
yer flytrap and don’t git sassy,” he warned. 

But Ham, still all ablaze with wrath, had to 
let of£ steam, so he contented himself by scream- 
ing, ‘‘ Yes, I say dern your buttons, you go to 
the — the — er, the place where they don’t shovel 
snow. ’ ’ 

In times of danger Snag was all wisdom. 
Quicker than the telling of it, he yanked Ham 
away from the wagon and hid him among a 
bunch of sorrowful children, nearly every one 
of whom bewailed the fate of some humble dog 
behind the bars. 

The two boys lapsed into silence and stuck 
closely to the sidewalk. All the forenoon, how- 
ever, they plodded in the wake of the dog-catch- 
ers, watching every move of their enemies, nor 
did they direct their footsteps homeward until 


18 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the caged vehicle had disgorged its forlorn oc- 
cupants in the city dog pound. 

Ham was very sad. “ It almost tore out my 
gizzard,’’ he sighed, when I seen ’em dump 
Nigger out with all them ragtag, bobtail curs. 
We gotta free him. Snag; we just gotta do it, I 
tell you.” 

Not once did it occur to either hoy that one 
dollar, plus a fee and penalty of some fifty cents, 
would have solved all their difficulties. Or maybe 
their sporting blood was up by now and they pre- 
ferred to defy the authorities like true desper- 
adoes. 

At any rate, both did some hard thinking. 
Snag, to relieve the mental tension, resorted to 
another infraction of the law as they neared 
home. From his pants pocket he drew a gravel- 
shooter, with which he amused himself by shoot- 
ing at the English sparrows that came his way. 
Then quite suddenly he whirled around on his 
companion and said, ‘‘^Ham, quit yer lookin’ so 
solemn-choly. I got an idea in my coco. Nigger 
will be back with us before midnight.” 

What idea? ” queried Ham, doubtfully. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 19 

Can’t tell you now,” teasingly replied Snag. 

Never talk on an empty stomach. Ma’s goin’ 
to have sweet pertater pie for dinner and I gotta 
hurry. See you after feedin’ time. Betcha two 
horn agates and this gravel-shooter against your 
one-hlade knife my silver duckwing game rooster 
can wallop that old Dominicker of youm in three 
minutes.” 

With that the young sinner skinned over his 
hack fence and disappeared in the yard of the 
Perkins homestead. 


CHAPTER II 

KESOUE WORK ON THE WHOLESALE PLAN 

“ It^s like eatin’ pie, it’s so easy; yessir, it’s 
SO easy I almost hate to do it.” 

The speaker was Snaggle-Tooth Perkins and 
his audience was Ham Willingham. In the 
friendly silence of a somewhat coquettish moon 
that constantly dodged behind velvety clouds, the 
two were making their way towards the north 
edge of the city. Need it be said that their des- 
tination was the dog pound? Both thrilled at 
the thought that they were about to enter upon 
an adventure which would make them heroes in 
the eyes of every boy in Richmond. Then, too, 
either lad would willingly have laid down his life 
for soft-eyed, cold-nosed, warm-hearted old Nig- 
ger, the king of cat-chasing Newfoundlands. 

‘‘ Whatcher goin’ to do and how you goin’ to 
do dt? ” nervously inquired Ham. I don’t 
know yet whatcher got up yer sleeve. ’ ’ 

20 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 21 

I got this up my sleeve,’’ replied the in- 
genious Snag, not realizing that his companion 
was speaking in figurative language; and forth- 
with from somewhere between his shoulder and 
his ‘‘ funny bone ” he drew out a keyhole saw. 
“And this, too,” he added, as he produced a 
small brace and bit. 

“ You may shoot me for a Dutchman, but I 
don’t catch on yet,” sighed Ham. 

‘ ‘ Great day in the morning ! ’ ’ shrilly shrieked 
Snag, using a favorite Virginia expression of 
that period, “ you sure are a numskull. Why, 
man, we ’re going to saw Nigger out of the pound. 
With this brace and bit I’m to make an auger 
hole. In that hole I’m going to put the keyhole 
saw, and then, kid, me and you has got to do some 
fancy wrist work. Sawin’ hard pine wood looks 
like fun at first and then it gits to be misery.” 

Five minutes later the two boys, with thump- 
ing hearts, paused on the brow of an ugly, subur- 
ban hill which was popularly known as the “ city 
dump.” Behind them was a ramshackle negro 
quarter and not far distant the Bichmond “ po’- 
house.” A hundred yards in front, down a foul- 


22 The Boys' Big Game Series 

smelling slope which had been partly leveled, lay 
the dog pound, an enclosure fenced in by closely 
fitted seven-foot pine boards. Silence reigned 
about the canine prison — that is, silence so far 
as human noises were concerned. But ever and 
anon there came distressing wails and howls 
and growls and whines from the four-footed cap- 
tives who were scheduled to meet the fate of out- 
casts. 

This ain’t no time for you to be gittin’ cold 
feet or showin’ your hack feathers,” whispered 
Snag, by way of keeping up his own nerve^ 

‘ ‘ Cold feet nuthin ’, ’ ’ indignantly retorted Nig- 
ger’s master. I ain’t half as skeered as I am 
every day in grammar class at school. Let’s git 
at the job quick. They may commence makin’ 
soap grease out of them dorgs any minute.” 

With that the two sturdy little spirits plunged 
boldly into a jungle of weeds and, despite many 
obstacles, rapidly made their way to the dog 
pound. Once at the fence they flattened them- 
selves out on the ground and listened intently for 
signs of danger. At first not a sound could be 
heard. Then came a series of queer, sniflSng 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 23 

noises which were barely audible. These in no 
wise alarmed the young law-breakers, for peep- 
ing through a narrow slit between the planks, 
Ham and Snag saw the dark form of Nigger loom 
up. The leonine Newfoundland had been prompt 
to scent his friends and came immediately to that 
part of the fence on which they were to operate. 

Had Nigger not obstructed the light with his 
great black bulk the boys also would have ob- 
served that every other pup in the pound had 
followed the example of the Newfoundland and 
hied himself to the spot opposite the place where 
the awful crime was about to be committed. 
There’s a natural affinity between boys and dogs, 
anyhow, and it wasn’t the least bit difficult for 
those poor, forlorn outlaws to smell their res- 
cuers. Furthermore, Ham and Snag were 

smelly ” boys at best. Even a human being 
could have scented them on this hot June night. 

To drill the auger hole and insert the keyhole 
saw therein was a work which required only five 
minutes of the valuable time of Mr. Snaggle- 
Tooth Perkins. Then the real labor began. To 
the accompaniment of fifty-nine friendly sniffings 


24 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

— there were that many pups in the pound — 
Ham and Snag sawed and sawed and sawed. The 
hoard selected, though one of the narrowest in 
the fence, was eleven inches wide, and hard. It 
stubbornly resisted the teeth of the saw and drew 
blood from the hands of the two hoys ere it 
finally yielded to their etforts. 

‘‘Jerusalem crickets! I^m glad the job is 
done,’^ sighed Ham, when the plank had been 
cut from side to side. 

“ But it ainT done,’^ retorted Snag, “ we gotta 
do the same thing at the bottom now and then 
bust the board in with a swift kick.’’ 

So the drilling and sawing was repeated, to 
the further mutilation of both youngsters’ hands 
and at the cost of still more good red blood. 
Then when the section of wood to be removed 
hung on by a mere splinter Snag gave it the swift 
kick which he thought so necessary, and the fence 
gaped with an opening large enough to accom- 
modate a lion. Ham and Snag had taken no 
chances as to its size. 

What followed was not exactly according to 
programme. The boys, in their sympathy for 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 25 

Nigger, had nearly forgotten about the other dogs. 
Somehow, they had overlooked the fact that a 
hole large enough to insure the escape of a New- 
foundland could likewise serve as a medium of 
liberty for tail-waggers of lesser size. The re- 
sult of this oversight was truly startling. 

First of all to plunge through the aperture was 
Nigger, who gave a wild yelp of joy at getting 
in touch with his liberators, and then proceeded 
to lick their faces. This was only what might 
have been expected of a decent Newfoundland 
with a proper sense of gratitude. But the fun 
did not stop there. All the other fifty-eight dogs 
proceeded to crowd through the hole until the 
opening literally oozed curs and mongrels of 
every description. These animals likewise were 
thankful, and what was worse, they thought that 
they, too, were entitled to lick the faces of Ham 
and Snag. 

‘‘ Holy smoke, what have we run into! ex- 
claimed Snag, kicking right and left, and vainly 
striving to beat off the dog kisses that were be- 
ing lavished upon him. ‘‘ The measly critters 
have begun to yelp, too, and in two minutes we’ll 


26 The Boys' Big Game Series 

have every policeman in town, let alone Detective 
Jack Wren, down on us. Ham, let^s skedaddle.’’ 

As has been remarked before, Mr. Hamilton 
Bacon Willingham was fat and not usually given 
to over-exertion, but he needed no second invita- 
tion to run. With a crash he plunged through a 
cluster of pokeberry bushes and dashed down the 
hill with Nigger at his heels. A second later 
Snag, after having deliberately picked up his 
tools, followed suit. 

The way of the fugitives led over uncertain 
ground. Both boys, in their fright, attempted to 
circle the city to the northeast and as a conse- 
quence they had to go uphill and downhill, 
through many gullies and ravines, and into seem- 
ingly endless acres of rank weeds growing among 
ash heaps and piles of tomato cans. Stones and 
bits of broken glass cut their feet, and in their 
flight they gathered dozens of brier burrs, or 
what in their more light-hearted moments they 
called ‘‘ nigger lice.” The going became increas- 
ingly difficult. 

‘‘I’m all blowed out and I gotta stop,” panted 
Ham, after the run had continued fifteen minutes. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 27 

My wind’s all gone and I got blood bruises all 
over my feet.” 

But the pause was of pitifully short duration. 
After a minute’s halt the boys, despite their fa- 
tigue, had to run again. To their horror they 
realized that they were being pursued. Dis- 
tinctly they could hear the rustle of vegetation in 
their wake and sense the patter of other feet in 
the paths they had traversed. 

Just at this juncture the man in the moon must 
have been enjoying a hearty laugh at the sight 
of what was happening below him. The pur- 
suers of Ham and Snag were not human beings 
but four-footed animals — a great majority of 
the dogs they had liberated. 

What could have been more natural than the 
assumption of all these unfortunate curs and 
mongrels that they also, like the stately Nigger, 
were the chums of the two boys? So most of 
them decided that they would trail after the 
speeding pair and, if possible, give further 
demonstrations of gratitude and appreciation. 

‘‘ Oh, Lordy, Oh, Lordyl the jig’s up,” wailed 
Snag when he realized what was happening. 


28 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

We gotta scoot like greased lightnin’ and give 
them dogs the shake or every policeman in town 
will know what we have been up to.’’ 

But Ham and Snag, alas, were soon to discover 
that boys have nothing on dogs when it comes to 
rapid transit. The faster they sped the pep- 
pier and more indefatigable became their follow- 
ers. At times the landscape seemed to seethe 
with pups. To make things worse, the dogs were 
beginning to bunch right at the heels of the fugi- 
tives. 

More than once the bedraggled heroes paused 
to coax, beg, threaten and menace their self-ap- 
pointed friends, but all in vain. Apparently all 
dogdom had joined the procession and each ani- 
mal seemed determined to stick. 

Just when the situation seemed most critical 
the quick wit of Snag saved the day, or rather 
brought about a change of programme. Looking 
ahead, he saw a long and seemingly interminable 
brick wall about five feet high. In an instant he 
recognized it as part of the fencing of one of 
the city cemeteries. 

Graveyards aren’t pleasant things at night, 


The Lady Dragon of Damcing Point 29 

especially in the opinion of boys already scared 
almost into ‘‘ conniption fits/’ but this one 
proved a welcome sight to Snaggle-Tooth. 

“ Here’s a buryin’ ground,” he whispered to 
Ham, ‘‘ and if we-uns wanter keep from gittin’ 
jugged we gotta skin over that wall and play 
dead among them graves a little while. Nigger ’U 
have to poke along home the best way he can. 
Thank our lucky stars he can’t jump this here 
wall, and if he can’t you can bet your bottom dol- 
lar none them other curs can’t.” 

I can’t jump it neither,” whimpered Ham, 
almost on the verge of tears from weariness, and 
not at all liking the idea of ‘‘ playing dead ” 
among graves. 

’Fraid of a lot of graves and b’lieve in 
ghostes,” bawled Snag. “ Your ma ought to 
make you wear dresses and put yer hair up in 
curl papers.” 

Stung into action by this taunt, the fat boy 
leaped to the wall, wheezingly heaved his bulk 
to the top and was over on the other side almost 
before his astonished companion could realize 
what was happening. 


30 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

With the agility of a monkey, Snag followed 
into the city of the dead. 

Eealizing that he had been left in the lurch, 
Nigger gave one pitiful whine and then philo- 
sophically decided to ‘‘ poke along home.^’ The 
other dogs, after sitting in solemn caucus a min- 
ute or so, voted to do the same, for they, too, 
had had a somewhat hectic day. 


CHAPTER III 


THE GBAVE GIVES UP ITS DEAD 

‘‘We gotta proceed cautiously.’^ 

These words fell from the lips of Ham when 
Snag thumped down beside him in the ceme- 
tery. Nigger’s master was not altogether clear 
in his mind as to the exact meaning of “ pro- 
ceeding cautiously.” But he had seen the ex- 
pression in “ Old Ironsides, the Detective,” a 
fascinating ten-cent story, and it seemed appro- 
priate to the occasion. Perhaps it was, too, for 
many strange things were about to happen. 

To begin with, the graveyard looked uncom- 
fortably dark except where an occasional moon- 
beam fell upon a granite shaft or where some 
marble angel spread out her wings in the dim 
light. Marble angels are not cheery creatures, 
at best, and those in a burying ground grow pe- 
culiarly spooky after sundown. 

As if to make things less agreeable, stillness 
31 


32 The Boys* Big Game Series 

reigned everywhere, for it was nearly midnight 
and the noises of the city had become hushed. 
Had it not been for the friendly fireflies, or 

lightning bugs,’^ as children call them, that 
flitted here and there over the grass-grown 
mounds. Ham and Snag would have been com- 
pletely demoralized. As it was, each boy now 
realized he would vastly prefer an encounter 
with a policeman to a meeting with a ghost. 

‘‘ Got goose bumps poppin’ out all over me,^^ 
whispered Snag, and then by way of apology he 
added, ‘‘ Eunning from them plague-take-it dorgs 
het me all up and now I’m sorter chilly.” 

‘‘ Me, too,” quoth Ham, glad to have a com- 
panion in misery. 

Proceeding as rapidly as they could in a west- 
erly direction, the boys sought to make a short 
cut for home. Some 200 yards from their start- 
ing point, in a particularly lonesome section of 
the cemetery. Ham paused and tugged at the 
sleeve of Snag. ‘‘ My soul! ” he exclaimed, 
pointing to an unexpected illumination some fif- 
teen yards ahead, “ but ain’t that a whoppin^ 
big lightnin^ bug? ” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 33 

Snag also had seen the light. He strove hard 
not to let his companion know that his teeth were 
chattering when he replied, ‘‘ Lightnin’ bug, 
shucks! That’s a sure-enough light — a dark 
lantern, I do believe — and somebody else besides 
us is in this graveyard tonight. Maybe it’s a 
policeman. What had we better do*? ” 

‘‘ Stand fast and not try to leg it,” answered 
Ham. ‘‘ Might trip over a baby’s tombstone or 
stump our toes on a grave. Whoever it is ain’t 
seen us, anyhow.” 

Jefferson Davis Perkins — that was Snag’s 
name in polite society — was also of the opinion 
that safety did not lie in flight. So the two boys 
stood their ground, or, what was braver still, 
crept up a little nearer. What they saw did not 
make them feel a bit cheerful. 

By now the light had been shifted so as to 
reveal four human forms. One the boys recog- 
nized as that of a notorious negro hackman who 
had figured in a murder case. The faces of the 
three other men — evidently whites — were 
masked with handkerchiefs. All kept their eyes 
on the ground yet seemed to be nervously alert. 


34 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

The negro, plainly the hireling of his associates, 
bore a shovel in his hand. 

‘‘ They’re goin’ to have a burial,” whispered 
Ham. ‘‘ Guess it must be some poor rooster 
who’s kicked the bucket from smallpox or seven 
years itch or some other outrageous disease.” 
(Ham really meant contagious ” disease, but 
at that period of his life he was rather weak with 
big words.) 

‘‘ Bury nothin’,” retorted Snag. Looks to 
me like they’re goin’ to dig somebody up. Can’t 
you see they’re leanin’ over a new made grave 
mound and have laid aside a lot of flowers? ” 

“ Let’s be goin’,’’ uneasily suggested the fat 
youngster. “ ’Tain’t respectful to be bangin’ 
around a burial when you don’t know the 
corpse. ’ ’ 

‘ ^ Go no - 0 - o wh-wh-wh-wh-ere — nowhere, 
skeeredcat,” stubbornly stuttered Snag, while his 
teeth rattled like seed in a gourd and at heart he 
wished he were a thousand miles away. He hoped 
that Ham would insist on a prompt departure. 

To the deep regret of Mr. Perkins, Ham did 
not insist on a retreat. Thus it came to pass 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 36 

that the two hoys saw a sight which was to haunt 
them for weeks to come. 

Snag had correctly sized up the situation. The 
men were about to take a body from the grave, 
and their actions showed that they wanted to do 
this in the quickest way possible. Their scheme 
was to economize labor by digging up only half 
of the grave — the half covering that part of the 
casket lid which separated the head and shoul- 
ders of the dead from the clod above. Once this 
section of the lid were lifted, the body could 
easily be dragged out of its resting place. 

It sure is a curious sort of business,’’ buzzed 
Ham into the ear of Perkins. Somehow I don’t 
like it — no, not even watchin’ it. Seems to me 
when you plant a codger you oughta let him be 
and not keep pokin’ at him.” 

To this remark Snag made no reply. His 
curiosity had got the better of his fears. He 
was too fascinated either to move or to answer. 
But both he and his friend were to see far more 
than they wished. 

The earth was rapidly thrown out half of the 
grave. Then down into the black hole swung the 


36 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

negro until only his egg-shaped skull appeared 
above ground. Next it disappeared altogether. 
Five minutes later it reappeared. By the side 
of it was a second head — a very rigid head. 

Then the dark lantern flashed earthward, and 
for a few seconds the boys beheld a spectacle 
that sent cold chills dancing down their spines. 
In the light they saw the black, leering, apelike 
face of the negro and the paUid, waxy face of a 
dead man. 

‘‘ I can’t stand no more of it; I’ve got the 
billy wiggles,” wailed Ham. “I’m goin’ to make 
tracks for home.” 

“ The same here,” admitted the once-brave 
Snag. ‘ ^ I got a plenty. I wisht to goodness I ’d 
a scooted when you first got the fidgets. ’ ’ 

With that both youngsters, without further 
ado, took to their heels and made a frantic dash 
towards the western walls of the cemetery. 

If there was any lack of speed on their part, it 
was not manifest three minutes later when five 
pistol shots were heard in quick succession. 

“ They’re after us,” panted Ham, “ and we’ll 
never get out of here alive.” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 37 

Somewhere near 1 o ^clock in the morning Ham 
and Snag reached their homes in almost the last 
stages of exhaustion. Nigger, long since forgot- 
ten, had preceded them by an hour or more, and 
so had the stub-tail yaller dog. Slops. 


CHAPTER IV 


WHAT THE NEWSPAPER SAED NEXT DAY 

On the morning following the incident in the 
cemetery, Jefferson Davis Perkins appeared in 
the alley back of the Willingham home. Placing 
his mouth at a knot hole in the fence, he emitted 
this somewhat shocking question: ‘‘ Wanter go 
to Hell, Ham? 

‘‘ Naw, don’t wanter go to Hell and don’t 
wanter go to Heaven, neither,” replied the fat 
person to whom the query was addressed. Here 
it should he explained in justice to both boys that 
neither was given to profanity. Hell ” and 

Heaven,” as well as Little Soda,” ‘‘ Big 
Soda ” and Head the Island,” were the names 
of famous swimming holes in the J ames river. 

Ham and Snag were perfectly at home in the 
water and it was difficult to say which was the 
better swimmer. As a diver the leaner lad had 
no equal, while Ham was an absolutely non- 
38 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 39 

sinkable proposition in any current. But this 
was not to be their day for swimming. 

On being informed as to his friend ^s disinclina- 
tion to taking to water, Snag proceeded to 
climb the fence and bounce into Ham^s back 
yard. He might easily have come through the 
gate, but he preferred the more strenuous method 
of approach. 

“ What makes you so grumpy? ’’ questioned 
Snag. Still skeerd over what happened last 
night? Beckon you think the police are goin^ to 
raise a big rumpus ’bout them dorgs we let 
loose.” 

‘‘I ain’t skeered a-tall but I’m worried — 
awful worried — and you’ll be gittin’ squirmy, 
too, when I tell you what’s the matter. This 
morning the first thing I did when I got up was 
to find The Daily Dispatch and look to see if they 
said anything about Nigger and us.” 

‘‘ Did they? ” eagerly asked Snag. 

“ No, not a word, but there’s a terrible lot 
about a grave robbery in the cemetery where we 
were last night. The paper says ghouls — what- 
ever they are — have been at work in several 


40 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Eichmond buryin ’-grounds recently and that 
they’ve stolen dozens of bodies.” 

“ What do they do with ’em? ” demanded Jef- 
ferson Davis Perkins. ‘‘ Seems to me a dead 
person would be the last thing I’d want. Don’t 
you remember how I kicked against your digging 
up that pet rabbit you’d buried? ” 

Ham ignored the reference to his departed 
bunny and said, Grave robbers steal corpses 
to sell to medical colleges where students cut up 
the bodies. They get good money for ^em, too.’^ 
Gee, I’m glad I’m not a student,” ahudder- 
ingly replied Snag, and then he added somewhat 
anxiously, Does the paper say who was in the 
buryin ’-ground last night; that is, does it — er — 
say that me and you was there? ” 

No, it puts it this way,” said Ham, reading 
from a paragraph before him: Policeman 

Barney Wilkinson, who interrupted the ghouls 
while they were at their grewsome work, does not 
know the identity of the guilty parties. They 
fled at his approach, leaving the corpse by the 
open grave, and the five shots he sent after them 
failed to halt their flight. OflScer Wilkinson is 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 41 

certain, however, that he saw four retreating 
figures. 

“Policeman Dennis Hannigan, who was on a 
beat near the western wall of the cemetery, re- 
ports that shortly after the shooting, he noticed 
two small white boys running down Second 
Street at breakneck speed. It was a late hour 
for boys to be away from home, hut it is hardly 
to be supposed that these youngsters had any 
connection with the grave robbery.’’ 

“ Jumpin’ crickets! that was us Officer Hanni- 
gan saw,” gasped Snag. “ My! but it was a 
close call. Still, a miss is as good as a mile. So 
long as we keep quiet we’ll be all hunkadorey.” 

“ Not so sure about that,” grimly said Ham. 
“ I ain’t told you all. The worst is yet to come. 
Not far from the grave the police found a key- 
hole saw and a brace and bit, as well as a bloody 
handkerchief. The newspaper says, ‘ It is con- 
fidently believed that the keyhole saw will prove 
a valuable clew. On its wooden handle crudely 
scratched are the initials J. D. H. The handker- 
chief, though much soiled and in some places 
soaked in blood, bears the letters ^HAM. ’ ” 


42 The Boys' Big Game Series 

‘‘ Oh Lawdy, our goose is cooked! '' moaned 
Snag, in terrible distress. ‘‘ Like a plum fool I 
dropped my tools when we started to run just as 
they were dragging that awful thing out of the 
grave. Detective Jack Wren will get us sure. 
Even now he may be on our trail.’’ 

‘‘And the handkerchief was mine,” sobbed 
Ham. “ I put my name on it with indelible ink 
one day when Ma was marking some sheets and 
towels. The blood came from brier scratches.” 

“ Can’t we explain if they catch us? ” faintly 
suggested Snag without a flicker of hope in his 
breast. 

“ Explain nuthin’; the more we talk the worse 
it will be. If we tell how we got in the grave- 
yard we’ll have to explain how we rescued Nig- 
ger, and then there’ll be the very Harry Old 
Scratch. It’ll mean a thousand years in the peni- 
tentiary for us, or what’s more likely — bangin’.” 

“ Maybe they’ll let us off because we are boys, 
and just punish the men. Don’t nobody expect 
a boy to be good, nohow, and after all, we 
didn’t mean no harm when we helped Nigger.” 

“ But they don’t know who the men are,” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 43 

wailed Ham, ‘‘ and besides, nobody would believe 
two boys that let a whole parcel of cur dogs loose 
on the town.’’ 

‘‘ I know who one of the men was, Ham, and 
so do you. He was that black hack driver they 
call Sam Simpson. Drat him, he’s the fellow 
that helped the dog-catchers land that poor li’l 
lame black and white dog they caught down on 
Fifth Street.” 

‘‘So he was, so he was and no mistake,’^ 
exclaimed Ham. “ I believe I could recog- 
nize one of the other fellows, too — that short, 
bow-legged man with broad shoulders. Did you 
notice that the little finger was gone off his right 
hand and that on his watch chain he wore a 
charm that looked like a lion’s tooth? ” 

“ I sure did! ” exclaimed Snag, “ and I also 
noticed that his ears stuck out from his head like 
a coon’s, though he kept puttin^ his handkerchief 
back over ’em when it slipped. Golly Moses, 
man, I got another idea. Why can’t we play de- 
tective and go tell the police all we know? May- 
be we could get our name in the paper that way.” 

“ Us play detective when we let loose them 


44 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

dogs and got the penitentiary hangin^ over us! ’’ 
sneered Ham. Why, kid, you’re full of mice. 
And besides, the newspaper says, ‘ Every per- 
son who had any connection, directly or indi- 
rectly, with this dastardly crime will he pun- 
ished to the fullest extent of the law.’ That’s 
hittin’ at us; I do believe the editor knows we 
were there.” 

‘‘ Looks mighty that way to me, too,” sadly ad- 
mitted Jefferson Davis Perkins. Then, quick as 
a flash, the whole expression of his face changed 
and his eyes sparkled. The boy had developed 
another ‘‘ idea.” Tiptoeing up to his fat friend 
he whispered in the somewhat soiled ear of that 
young citizen, Ham, our only safety is in flight. 
We gotta be fugitives from justice. This town 
is gittin’ too hot for us.” 

Before a reply to this thrilling proposition 
could be framed, a voice came from the kitchen 
crying, ‘ ^ Ham. HAM ! Hamilton ! I Hamilton 
Bacon Willingham!!! You come here this min- 
ute and stop piddling around there in the back 
yard. I’ve got work for you to do.” 

It was Mrs. Willingham, about the only per- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 45 

son on earth who would have had the energy to 
pronounce Ham^s name in full. The tone of her 
voice seemed to carry a threat, but her son knew 
better. It had been a long, long time since he had 
received a whaling and some sixth sense now told 
him that he wasn’t to be chastised that morning. 

NOTE 

Dr. W. Asbury Christian’s notable history, “ Rich- 
mond: Her Past and Present,” has this to say about 
the grave robberies in the Virginia capital: 

“ Scarcely a year passed that Richmond did not 
have some great sensation that kept minds active and 
tongues busy. This year (1880) opened with a serious 
one that affected the whole city, but especially those 
who had friends and loved ones buried in Oakwood 
Cemetery. The startling announcement was made that 
the ghouls were at work and that already forty graves 
had been robbed. 

Most of the graves opened were in the eastern sec- 
tion where the poorer people were buried, but their 
bodies were as dear to their friends and relatives as any 
other class. 

‘‘ It became known that many of the bodies were 
shipped in coal-oil barrels and some found their way 
into the dissecting room of the Medical College here. 
There was great excitement and some people were even 
afraid to die for fear the body-snatchers would get 
them; at least they desired to postpone it until the 
business was broken up. 


46 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 


The Council Committee on Cemeteries began an 
immediate investigation, then the Council took it up 
and deposed the superintendent of the cemetery, and 
later the grand jury began to probe into the matter. 
No one was convicted, but the grave robbers had to 
transfer their business from Richmond to another place, 
for awhile at least, to allow the people to die in peace. 


CHAPTEE V 


HAM HEAKS ABOUT A DKAGON 

It becomes necessary at this point to describe 
Hamilton Bacon Willingham more in detail. To 
do this will be to reveal certain facts which in 
1880 were a sore trial to him. In the first place, 
the boy was downright handsome, or what, to his 
unutterable disgust, the women called cute.’’ 
He had the reddest of round cheeks that would 
dimple in spite of everything he could do, and the 
softest of brown eyes. An added source of 
shame to him was his chestnut hair that curled 
even after the most persistent brushings. As for 
his even white teeth, they were a constant proof 
that toothbrushes are not absolutely necessary to 
the dental equipment of all youngsters. Ham, it 
is true, was the possessor of several toothbrushes 
but they had many and long vacations. 

In view of the foregoing description nobody 
should be astonished to learn that the Widow 


47 


48 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Willingham, after having called her son in from 
the back yard and seated him in a parlor chair, 
impulsively threw her arms around his neck and 
cried, “ Oh, my darling, pretty little boy, you 
don’t know how much trouble you are giving 
me.” 

Ham, at this period of his life, hated to be 
hugged, loathed to be addressed as a darling, 
and, as has been intimated, despised to be called 
pretty. It would have broken his heart had Snag- 
gle-Tooth Perkins peeped in on the scene just 
then or heard him spoken of as little.” Never- 
theless, Ham submitted quietly to the caresses, 
for his instinct told him that the hour had come 
for the use of his wits. Furthermore, he loved 
his mother devotedly and at that moment, for the 
first time, he realized that Mrs. Willingham, de- 
spite her shabbiness, her careworn expression 
and her thirty-five years, was unmistakably 
comely. 

Lying was not among the boy^s accomplish- 
ments, and what is more, he had reached the age 
when he found a certain amount of sport in fac- 
ing issues. So he said, Well, I reckon you’re 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 49 

goin’ to jump me for being out so late last night, 
ain^t you, Ma? There ainT no two ways about 
it — I do deserve a tannin’ though I’m kinder 
wonderin’ how you could handle me if you really 
did take it into your head to give me a walloping. 
I ain’t nobody’s dwarf, you know.” 

Now all this was Ham’s shrewd way of saying 
that though he knew he deserved a whipping, he 
entertained strong hopes of avoiding the issue by 
suave strategy. 

Mrs. Willingham was astute enough to see 
through the scheme. She adopted another line 
of punishment. She kissed Ham resoundingly 
on the forehead — loud enough for Snag Perkins 
and all the other boys on the block to hear — and 
then she said, Oh, precious, what monstrous 
grammar you use — the po ’-whitest I ever heard. 
And my what mangy hands and dirty ears and 
smeary cheeks you have. But before you wash 
up I wish to know what you were doing last 
night.” 

This brought forth the story in installments — 
or most of it. Ham forgot, however, to describe 
the grave-robbers, as he recalled them, and omit- 


50 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

ted to say that he and Snag were contemplating 
flight. 

The more Mrs. Willingham heard, the more 
she gasped. She herself was an ally of Nigger 
and would gladly have paid his license had her 
attention previously been directed to the mat- 
ter. In her inexperience she did not know what 
view the authorities would take of the wholesale 
rescue, nor was she exactly certain whether or 
not the boys would really be suspected of a part 
In the grave robbery. 

On one point, however, her mind was made up. 
Come what might, she did not intend to allow 
Ham to figure in any case before the police jus- 
tice or before any court of law. He was too 
young for that. 

After thinking over the matter a few minutes 
she said, I know what Ifll do with you, you 
darling little nuisance. I’m going to send you 
out of town, and meanwhile I’ll consult a 
lawyer. ’ ’ 

Ham’s heart sank within him. He felt a sense 
of infinite disgust and humiliation. To be res- 
cued thus by one ’s mother — how babyish it was ! 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 51 

What he wanted to do was to seek safety in 
flight’’ — to he a fugitive from justice with 
good old Snag and Nigger as his companions. 
No police or detectives could heat that comhina- 
tion if they ‘‘ proceeded with caution.” 

‘‘ Where are you going to send mef ” moodily 
asked Ham. 

‘‘ Down in Charles City county about thirty 
miles helow here on the James river, where all 
your kinfolks live.” Then, as an afterthought, 
the widow added with a touch of pride, They’re 
people to he proud of — your Charles City con- 
nections.” 

‘‘ Then why are you a dressmaker, if we’ve got 
so many fine relatives? ” blurted out Ham, who 
regretted the question the instant he asked it. 

The widow flinched as though cut with a whip 
when she heard the words, hut was quick as a 
flash to regain her self-command. ‘‘ Never mind 
about that, my darling,” she replied, you’re 
not old enough to understand such things yet.’^ 
But I’d like to understand if I could help 
you,” said the hoy, and then somehow he wasn’t 
at all ashamed that now she was hugging him 


52 The Boys* Big Game Series 

tight and that he in turn was patting her cheek. 

‘‘ Don^t you worry about not having a good 
time in Charles City, Ham,’^ said his mother, 
trying to change the subject. It isn’t a city 
at all, you know — just plain country — but 
there’s room enough there even for a restless boy 
like you. If you want you can also take Nigger. 
He’ll be safe enough down there unless some 
other dog chews him up.” 

Humph, I’d like to see some other dorg try 
it — that I would,” retorted Ham indignantly. 

He can eat up anything his size that walks on 
four legs.” 

“ Well, anyhow, he’d better look out for the 
Charles City dragon,” replied the widow smil- 
ingly. 

‘‘ What, ” almost screamed the boy. “ Did 
you say DRAGON? I thought there wasn’t any 
dragons except in fairy tales.” 

‘‘ I thought so, too, but for the last three weeks 
every letter I’ve received from Charles City 
speaks of some fearful monster that’s terrifying 
the negroes down there. The thing is even men- 
tioned in the papers now and everybody speaks 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 53 

of it as the ‘ dragon.’ It seems to hang around 
creeks and ponds, and is known to have maimed 
several cows, besides partially eating two 
calves.” 

Oh, Ma, does it spit fire and smell of brim- 
stone, and do you reckon that if me and Nigger 
killed it we could rescue some lovely princess and 
marry her — that is, I could marry her and Nig- 
ger could be her faithful vassal. Of course, I 
understand that Nigger couldn’t marry her.” 

I don’t particularly care to have you go into 
the dragon-killing business just yet, my boy, and 
like every other woman, I’m opposed to having 
a daughter-in-law, even though she be a princess. 
Nevertheless, I’ll let you go to Charles City pro- 
vided you promise to do nothing imprudent.” 

I’ll promise anything, Ma, indeed I will. 
Yes, I’ll clean my teeth after every meal and the 
way I’ll wash my neck will almost rub the skin 
otf it.” 

‘‘All right; anything except a daughter-in- 
law.” 

But even as Mrs. Willingham spoke, she saw 
the expression of her son’s face change so mark- 


54 The Boys* Big Game Series 

edly that she was not in the least surprised when 
she heard him saying, ‘‘ Since I come to think 
about it, Ma, I don^t believe I wanter go. I^d 
like to get a whack at that dragon hut sumthin’ 
tells me I oughta stick here.’’ 

‘‘ Why, what’s got into you all of a sudden, 
Ham I A minute ago I couldn’t hold you back.” 

‘‘ Well, if you won’t laugh at me I’ll tell you. 
It’s Snag Perkins. He’s in grave danger (this 
expression was borrowed from a penny dread- 
ful) and I shan’t desert him. Snag’s my partner 
and he stuck by me like a sheepburr when the 
dog-catchers scooped up Nigger. ’Twas him that 
had the idea about the rescue, too, and if he 
hadn’t been in the cemetery with me last night I 
do believe I’d a had spasms. Can’t nuthin’ 
skeer him. Snag ain’t pretty to look at but he’s 
a brick.” 

‘‘ The world isn’t overburdened with loyalty 
and gratitude,” sighed Mrs. Willingham, as 
though talking to somebody far away. “ When 
we see these virtues we ought to encourage them. 
My darling, Snag may go with you if his mother 
will allow it.” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 55 

‘‘ Glory hallelujah! ’’ whooped Ham. 

‘‘ But if you two hoys rescue a princess from 
the dragon, you must let Snag do the marrying. 
There isnT any girl on earth good enough for 
you.’^ 


CHAPTER VI 

THE ‘‘ BESUKRECTIONIST WHO WOULDN’T FIGHT 

Overhead a summer sky of blue; below the 
sparkling waters of the James; on the right the 
smiling lowlands of Chesterfield; on the left the 
vine-fringed bluffs of Henrico; to the west the 
receding outlines of Richmond on her seven hills ; 
to the east the winding path of the silvery river 
that never seemed quite certain as to the way it 
would go. 

Ham and Snag were off for Charles City coun- 
ty. It was the steamer Ariel that bore them. 
Each boy had been duly scrubbed, counseled, 
kissed and inserted into his Sunday clothes under 
maternal supervision. Each also had been 
warned against doing a thousand things that 
boys always do, and urged to observe a thou- 
sand rules that boys always fail to observe. 

The two youngsters were heavily freighted 
when they wedged in among the crowds that 
56 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 57 

passed over the gangplank. In addition to an 
ancient carpetbag containing the wardrobe of 
Ham, that youngster carried a good-sized shoe 
box bulging with lunch. Around the lad^s right 
wrist was wrapped a rope and to that rope was 
attached the dearly-beloved form of Nigger, wild- 
ly excited but altogether satisfied. Any question 
as to the temper of the amiable animal would 
have been answered by a glance at his bushy tail 
which he waved back and forth like a bandmaster 
wielding a baton. 

Jefferson Davis Perkins likewise had seen to 
it that he did not lack for lunch. The receptacle 
containing his food supply was even larger than 
Ham’s. His clothing, of which he had no over- 
plus, had been jammed into a venerable valise, 
and in each pocket of his Sabbath knickerbockers 
nestled a gravel- shooter. Nor did his baggage, 
or impedimenta,” as Julius Caesar would have 
called it, end with this outfit. At great incon- 
venience, he also bore a huge pasteboard band- 
box such as women use for their millinery. 

Obviously this carton did not contain feminine 
headgear, for it was full of round holes, each 


58 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

about the size of a quarter, and was much be- 
draggled from contact with Snag’s hands. The 
use of the box was startlingly demonstrated when 
from its inside there issued the clarion voice of a 
gamecock. Snag was taking his silver duckwing 
rooster to the country with him. 

This valiant bird, named Billy Mahone in 
honor of a famous ex-Confederate general then 
figuring prominently in Virginia politics, was the 
darling of Snag’s heart. A hundred victories 
had come to Billy Mahone from as many back- 
yard cockfights instigated by his master, but the 
fowl was allowed to “ knock ” only with his nat- 
ural spurs. His owner would have died rather 
than let the rooster go into the pit with steel 
spurs. 

Just as the Ariel steamed by Warwick, a point 
about four miles below Eichmond, to which tradi- 
tion says the poet Edgar Allan Poe often swam, 
Jefferson Davis Perkins remarked to his com- 
panion, Ham, it’s about time we was eatin’ our 
snack, ain’t itf ” 

Although the boys had had their breakfast only 
two hours before. Ham was only too willing to 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 59, 

accede to Snag’s proposition looking to further 
nourishment. So also was Nigger, who readily 
smelled out the meaning of the question. 

Opening up the battle with an attack on a 
sweet potato pie and rapidly working their way 
backward on the bill of fare to fried chicken legs 
and cucumber pickles, Ham and Snag proceeded 
to enjoy life and exchange confidences. 

No youngster, however, is ever willing to ad- 
mit that he is wholly and completely happy, and 
Ham, assuredly, was not an exception to this 
rule. So just when the grub was tasting best, 
he knitted his eyebrows, tried to look serious, 
and said, Snag, I feel that our very footsteps 
are being dogged.’^ 

Maybe they are,” replied Snag, now busily 
engaged on a chicken leg, but I ain’t lettin’ 
that bother me. All I know is that our footsteps 
sure was dogged last Tuesday night (the time of 
Nigger’s rescue) when we let loose all them curs 
and scalawag mongrels from the city dog pound. 
They haven’t followed us aboard this ship, have 
they? ” 

Ham couldn’t exactly explain who was pursu- 


60 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

ing him, so he changed the subject. The lunches 
consumed, both boys proceeded to investigate 
things about them as only boys can do. It was to 
be nearly two hours before the slow boat reached 
the landing at Wilson’s wharf, their point of des- 
tination. 

First they amused themselves studying the 
drowsy landscape on each side of the river. Then 
they began watching the aquatic birds that flew 
up along the shores from time to time — the big, 
spindle-shanked blue herons, popularly known as 
cranes, the ungainly Indian hens called “ fiddle- 
doo ” birds by Old Dominion boys, the summer 
ducks, the sand snipes, the plovers, the kildees, 
the kingfishers, the fish hawks and the bank 
swallows. 

Snag, having no ammunition for his gravel- 
shooters, soon tired of the birds and proposed a 
climb to the hurricane deck. This in turn was 
followed by an excursion to the lower compart- 
ments of the steamer where the engine rooms 
were located and the freights were stored. 

Just when it looked as if they had inspected 
and fingered about everything that was inspect- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 61 

able or fingerable, the two youngsters unexpect- 
edly ran into the one place where their mothers 
would most have wished them not to be — the 
tiny bar-room of the Ariel. 

Neither ever had been in a saloon, big or little, 
before. Each therefore had an impulse to side- 
step, yet something held both of them charmed. 
The strange, smoke-ridden atmosphere, with its 
smells of tobacco, mint, whiskey and wine, fas- 
cinated them and they stood stock still. 

Nobody noticed the appearance of Ham and 
Snag. Attention was focused on two flashily 
dressed men who evidently had drunk too much. 
They had begun to quarrel and were growing 
imprudent in speech. Much that they said was 
not fit for the ears of boys, and a good deal for- 
tunately was beyond their understanding. 

Ham and Snag could not fail to comprehend, 
however, when the smaller of the two men said 
to the person who had incurred his displeasure, 
You do a heap of talking about being a dead- 
game sport, and you think you can throw a lot of 
drinks into my hide and keep me quiet, but I 
say you are a dirty dog.^^ 


62 


The Boys’ Big Game Series 

Usually such language as that, when uttered in 
Virginia, is followed by fisticuffs, and the boys 
waited in breathless excitement for the sequel. 
But the man at whom the insult was directed, 
though furious, did not fight. Intoxicated though 
he was, he held himself in check. 

Spurred on by this silence and inaction, the 
smaller man continued, “Yes, I repeat it — 
you’re a dirty dog. I can swallow a lot and 
love a dollar as well as the next one, but I don’t 
like to see any man putting the thumbscrews on 
a woman — especially a woman with no one to 
protect her.” 

At this the larger man made a quick move- 
ment as though about to maul his tormentor. 
The situation now had grown so tense that the 
barkeeper, a husky individual not to be trifled 
with, saw fit to intervene in the cause of peace. 
He threatened to have both offenders put ashore 
unless they ceased their quarreling and became 
more orderly. 

Under this pressure quiet was restored, and 
the two who had caused the disturbance with- 
drew to different parts of the boat. As the 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 63 

smaller man shuffled off, the hoys heard him con- 
tinually repeating to himself in a maudlin way 
such expressions as these, The dirty dog,” 
the sneaking resurrectionist,” the cowardly 
thief.” He robs the living and he even goes 
after the dead.” I’ll make him squeal some 
day when I tell about those papers.” 

‘‘ What’s a ^ resurrectionist’? ” queried Snag 
when he and Ham were alone again. 

Sounds to me like somebody in the Bible,” 
answered the fat boy, not willing to he stumped 
by any question his companion might ask. It’s 
a man who does something or other when Gabriel 
blows his trumpet on judgment day and the dead 
rise up.” 

Wouldn’t want the job,” briefly said Snag, 
recalling his experience in the cemetery. 

Somehow this remark sharpened the memory 
of his companion. Oh, I remember now,” ex- 
claimed Ham. I know what a ‘resurrectionist’ 
is. I saw the word in the newspaper. It’s a 
grave-robber. Je-ru-sa-lem crickets! Snag, that 
man that let the little fellow give him so much 
lip is a body-snatcher.” 


64 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

Yes, and he’s the very one we saw in the 
graveyard,” replied the owner of the silver duck- 
wing gamecock. Since I come to think about 
it, I recognize his bow legs and the ears that 
stick way out — ” 

‘‘And the lion’s tooth on his watch chain,” in- 
terrupted Ham. “ My sakes alive, we’re better 
than detectives. What ought we to do about 
it? ” 

“ Do nuthin’. He might recognize us, too, and 
lay the whole business on me and you. Who 
knows? He may be doggin’ our footsteps.” 

Half an hour later the two boys, seemingly as 
unconcerned as though they never had a worry 
in their lives, found their way to a part of the 
steamer where many negroes were assembled. 
Among these they were perfectly at home. Snag, 
indeed, made so many friends among the black 
folk, that he was moved to take Billy Mahone 
from the bandbox and exhibit the war-loving 
gamecock to those about him. 

“ He doesn’t know the name of defeat,” 
proudly said his owner, waxing eloquent. ‘ ‘ There 
ain’t a bird in the country that can lick him. As 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 65 

soon as they hear about him in Washington, 
they^re going to take the American eagle off the 
silver dollar and put Billyhs likeness there/’ 

Virginia darkies, as a rule, are not so much 
interested in game chickens as they are in poul- 
try of “ frying size ” dimensions. Fowls of the 
last-mentioned sort, regardless of ownership, 
learned years ago to roost high.” Billy Ma- 
hone, therefore, did not create quite the sensation 
that Snag had hoped. 

One grizzled old darky, wearing a paper col- 
lar, black shoestring cravat, ‘‘ biled shirt,” well 
greased boots and frock coat, noted the boy’s 
disappointment and said, He’s a peart-looking 
rooster an’ no mistake, young gempmun. Hops 
around so mighty sassy you’d think he owns dis 
state. But I hopes you gwine lissen to me an’ 
keep him out my part de world. If he sot foot 
down thar he sho’ goin’ to be sorry for he gwine 
know defeat.” 

‘ ‘ Where do you live and what makes you think 
that? ” asked Snag rather peevishly. 

I’se from Charles City, boss,” laughed the 
old man, who was a preacher, ‘ ‘ and all de quality 


66 The Boys* Big Game Series 

folks ’round about Dancin’ Pint, white de same 
as cullud, knows me. But not meanin’ no dis- 
respeck to you nor your rooster, we got a fowl 
down thar dat can make dat tbar bird squawk.” 

‘‘ What sorter fowl? ” asked Snag indignantly. 

‘‘ Dat’s whar you gits me, young gempmun. I 
ain’t nebber sot eyes on him but I beam tell o’ 
him an’ I seen his feetsteps in de sand — yassir, 
all four of ’em. He doan wear no ladies’ size 
shoes, neither. ’ ’ 

“ But how can he have four feet and be a 
bird? ” said Snag, much puzzled. 

Here a young negro of eighteen butted into 
the conversation. ‘‘ Brother Jasper really doan 
know whether he’s talkin’ about a fowl or not,” 
said he. He’s alludin’ to a strange monster 
that’s got everybody talkin’. White folks, tryin’ 
to scare us colored people, calls it ‘ the Charles 
City dragon.’ We colored folks is keepin’ quiet. 
Them as has faith in the Lord need fear no evil.” 

Ham and Snag, always shrewd observers, at 
this point became conscious that the other ne- 
groes in their mysterious way were signaling the 
speakers to shut their mouths. Young as they 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 67 

were the bays knew that there’s nobody so hard 
to pump as a wary darky, so they left the group. 

Off alone to themselves again, the hoys ex- 
changed a hundred guesses as to what the 
Charles City dragon ’ ’ might be. Each expressed 
a burning desire to face the creature and do bat- 
tle with it. Ham, who was of a romantic nature, 
still secretly hoped that a princess was somehow 
held in bondage by the monster and that he could 
rescue her. Snag, of a more practical turn of 
mind, wondered if he could slay the dragon with 
his gravel-shooters. 

Busy as these thoughts kept the two young 
knights, they nevertheless found time, before 
reaching Wilson’s wharf, to get a good look at 
each of the men who had figured in the bar-room 
quarrel. 


CHAPTER VII 

A BATTLE ON THE WATERFRONT 

It had been previously arranged by letter that 
Captain Benjamin Taliaferro Christian, a 
brother of Ham’s mother, was to meet the boys 
at Wilson’s wharf. ‘‘ Uncle Ben ” was an ex- 
Confederate soldier, who in his day had done 
some hustling with General Jeb ” Stuart, the 
great cavalryman. But after the surrender at 
Appomattox the gobd man ceased to hustle. In 
1880 nobody would have dreamed of hurrying 
Uncle Ben, nor had he ever been known to get 
anywhere on time. 

Understanding her kinsman’s weaknesses, Mrs. 
Willingham had warned the boys beforehand that 
they might have a long wait at the wharf. This 
proved to be the case. But it didn’t worry Ham 
and Snag. Time was nothing to them, and for 
once in their lives they felt they would never 
be hungry again. So the two just moseyed and 
68 


The Lady Dragon of Dcmcing Point 69 

nosed around tlie wharf watching the stevedores 
handling the freight. 

Suddenly from amongst a pile of big wooden 
boxes there arose something which at first glance 
appeared to be a pair of bluejeans breeches pos- 
sessed of the power to walk and stir about. Closer 
inspection revealed that the breeches — a huge 
pair of overalls — contained an overgrown youth 
about fifteen years of age. As the waist of Ms 
trousers struck him almost under the armpits, it 
was hard to tell what manner of boy he was. His 
head, however, could not fail to attract atten- 
tion. It was crowned with a towsled shock of 
straw-colored hair, and below the hair was a 
freckled face that showed remarkable shrewd- 
ness. Beneath the lad’s lemon-colored eyebrows, 
which worked up and down in a most quizzical 
way, were two blue eyes that fairly danced with 
fun. 

Here was a boy worth noticing. Ham and 
Snag were quick to give him the once over.” 
The individual in the breeches was equally quick 
to size up the strangers. 

Hi there, tubby,” he yelled at the plump 


70 The Boys* Big Game Series 

Mr. Willingliam, does your Ma know you^re 
out? Seems to me she’d be afraid all that soap 
grease would melt in the sun.” 

‘‘ Git back in your Pa’s pants, you great big 
gashagging lummux, and quit your gabbing,” 
replied Ham defiantly. 

Not the least bit abashed at this reference to 
his attire, the youth in overalls began bawling at 
the top of his voice. 

Fat boy, fat boy, you’re talking through you hat, boy. 
Your physical architecture is a kind that couldn^t please. 
Fat boy, fat boy, you don’t know where you’re at, boy. 
I’ve mashed the man who acts upon the high trapeze.” 

So engrossed did the occupant of the bluejeans 
breeches become as he sang his song, that he 
failed to observe the nearer approach of Ham. 
The latter, it should be explained, was now 

fighting mad,” nor did it sweeten his temper 
to see that Snag was giggling as he had never 
giggled before. 

Just as the songster concluded the line, “I’ve 
mashed the man who acts upon the high 
trapeze,” something hit him — something that 
felt like a tightly filled flour bag. Dazed as he 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 71 

was, the musical youth heard a voice crying, 
^‘And IVe smashed yon in the smeller.^’ 

It was Ham who had delivered the punch and 
a dandy one it was, too — that is, from the view- 
point of everybody except the boy in overalls. 

That youth literally rocked under the blow for 
a moment and then his sun-cured ‘‘ smeller,’’ 
already almost as red as a tomato, began to bleed 
freely. But the boy was game and the terrible 
thing about him was that he laughed. Holy 
smoke,” he chuckled as he spat blood, that sure 
was a socdolager, but it’s my time now. I’m 
going to eat you up alive.” 

With that he seemed to rise up out of his 
breeches like a Jack-in-the-box. Ham immedi- 
ately became conscious that he had ‘‘ bitten oft 
more than he could chew ” and that some of his 
own blood was likely to be spilled now. Nor was 
he wrong. Before he could get up his guards 
what seemed a mountain of flesh and bone smote 
him in the right eye. 

Then the fight was on in earnest, for each com- 
batant had received a ‘‘ stinging up.” The won- 
der is that Ham was not beaten to a pulp under 


72 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the long reach of his adversary. But something 
protected him against great odds and he gave 
a pretty good account of himself. Among other 
things he left a highly ornamental bump on the 
forehead of his opponent, to say nothing of tem- 
porarily enlarging the country boy’s chin. 

Perhaps there are some who may wish to know 
what Snag was doing all this time. Well, he was 
doing absolutely nothing — that is, nothing ex- 
cept risking the welfare of his Sunday knicker- 
bockers by sitting on a bundle of barb-wire as he 
watched the fight. 

Not a word said Snag. Never once did he 

root ” for his friend; never once did he offer 
a sign of encouragement to him. He was there 
to see fair play and he hoped to heaven Ham 
wouldn’t get all skint up,” but he wasn’t going 
to interfere by so much as the crook of a finger. 
Snag’s sense of ethics forbade that. At the very 
outset he had observed that the gawk in overalls 
was all alone without backers or supporters, so 
he immediately resolved to keep quiet. The boy 
spirit of square dealing kept Snag mute, al- 
though he longed to shout encouragement. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 73 

Things were not going at all well for Nigger’s 
master when all of a sudden the flooring of the 
wharf resounded with a loud, whacking noise as 
if someone were heating the planks with a base- 
ball hat. A second later a voice thundered, 
‘‘Here! Here! HERE!! Stop it; STOP IT, I 
say, before I brain you both. Confound your 
cussed hides, you young devils, I’ll take you by 
the nape of your necks and fling you into the 
river. ’ ’ 

It was Uncle Ben who had unexpectedly ar- 
rived on the scene. Uncle Ben may be described 
in few words. He chewed tobacco and had a 
wooden leg. These were the most noticeable 
things about him. It was his stout hickory limb 
that had made the thumping noise on the wharf 
as he rushed to the pugilists. 

Through two half-closed eyes — for the hick in 
the blue jeans breeches had been getting in some 
terrible work — Ham saw his kinsman for the 
first time. Uncle Ben at that period was well 
beyond forty. He wore whiskers and Confeder- 
ate gray, not to mention a slouch hat, a turndown 
collar and a black shoestring tie which always 


74 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

was untied. Though he had the voice of a fog- 
horn and stamped about on his peg leg like a gal- 
loping dray horse, he was the most amiable of 
souls and never made an enemy in his life. 

Ham loved Ben from the first moment he saw 
him. So did Snag. As for the holy terror who 
had almost climbed out of his pants to fight, it 
was plain that he also respected Uncle Ben. He 
deferentially addressed the veteran as Cap- 
tain, and was quick to pick up that gentleman’s 
flaming red bandanna when the latter dropped it. 

So the fight came to an abrupt end — perhaps 
to the great satisfaction of both warriors — and 
Uncle Ben, in a much milder voice, said, Well, 
this is a pretty kettle of fish — all this blankety- 
blank to-do on a public wharf. Dem you. I’ll 
give you two tough young rowdies to the Charles 
City Dragon. They say he can digest everything. 
Why, the more I think of it the madder I get. 
Who started all this rumpus, anyhow? ” 

Me,” grinned the gawk in overalls as he 
wiped his bloody hands on his hair. ‘‘ I ought 
notta said he was fat, though he sure ain’t no 
bean-pole. ’ ’ 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 75 

‘‘ Me,’’ said Ham, almost the same instant. 

I called him a great big gasbagging lummux 
and told him to git out of his Pa’s pants, which 
he certainly does look like he’s wearin’.” 

•‘A pretty exchange of compliments, indeed,” 
roared Uncle Ben with a chuckle as he bespat- 
tered his whiskers with tobacco juice. But I 
reckon ’twas a fair fight and I’m mighty sorry 
I didn’t see it all. Now kiss and make up, boys.” 

At this both youngsters shied perceptibly. 
They really thought the Captain was in earnest 
about the kissing, and that was just a little too 
much for them. They had not reached the kiss- 
ing age. Ham backed off in one direction and 
the country boy in the other. 

At this juncture Jefferson Davis Perkins, who 
up to now had kept very quiet, intervened to save 
the day. The one-legged gentleman don’t ac- 
tually mean for you two to smack each other in 
the face like gals,” said that much-interested on- 
looker. ‘‘ He jest means for you to shake hands 
and be friends.” 

Oh, that’s different,” said Ham, much re- 
lieved. ‘‘I’m willin’.” 


76 


The Boys' Big Game Series 

Me, too,’’ added the gawk. I ain’t got no 
hard feelin’s. And my nose, it never will be 
hard again; it feels like mush. Here, Tubby, give 
us your com-sheller. ” 

And so the episode closed, with honors even, 
in a friendly shake. 


CHAPTER VIII 


BILLY MAHONE TACKLES A GIANT 

As soon as things had settled down a little after 
the encounter between Ham and the gawk in 
overalls, Uncle Ben began stumping around as 
lively as a hen with one chicken. He told the 
boys they had made him lose a lot of important 
time, and that all hands would have to hurry off, 
or they would miss their dinner. The plantation, 
he explained, was known as Heron ^s Nest,’’ 
and was about two miles down the river. It was 
to be the summer abiding place of the boys. 

Ham and Snag, with the assistance of the tow- 
sle-headed youth, rapidly gathered up their be- 
longings with the idea of placing them in the 
captain’s ramshackle buggy. But the start was 
not yet to be made. Uncle Ben, by now, had met 
another ex-Confederate soldier who just hap- 
pened along,” and the two were living over again 
the experience they underwent ‘‘ endurin’ ” of 
77 


78 The Boys* Big Game Series 

tlie war between tbe states. That meant the loss 
of at least another hour in a region where a 
thousand years are but as a day. 

So the boys, quite willing to tarry, settled down 
for a second wait. They were not long in learn- 
ing that the fighting machine in blue jeans was 
known locally as ‘‘ Buck ** Timberlake. Further- 
more he was a cracking good fellow, ready to 
try anything at least once and apparently not 
afraid of anything on earth. 

Buck told his new-found friends that he was 
“ poor but proud.’’ He said his mother was 
dead, and that his Pa, without having anything 
particular the matter with him, “ kept po’ly all 
the time and had to sit around.” This was the 
lad’s kindly way of announcing that he was com- 
pelled to support not only himself but his parent 
by such odd jobs on land or water as he could 
find in the neighborhood. He added that he was 
eager to get as much ‘‘ schoolin’'” as he could 
and even then had progressed as far as the 
seventh grade. 

Whatcher goin’ to be when you’re a man? ” 
quizzed Snag, who was naturally curious. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 79 

To the amazement of both the city boys, Buck, 
without a moment’s hesitation, answered, “A 
preacher.” Then in the next breath he whirled 
around at Snag and said abruptly, ‘‘Whatcher 
got in that pasteboard box you’re toting around 
so careful? ” 

game rooster,” proudly replied the owner 
of Billy Mahone, “and he ain’t never been 
whipped. ’ ’ 

“ I got sumthin’ can lick him,” said the would- 
be preacher. 

“ What? ” snapped Snag, all a-bristle. 

“ Jest anuther rooster — that’s all.” 

“ Trot him out,” shouted Snag, bouncing up 
off a pile of lumber. 

“ I don’t carry him round with me like he was 
a baby,” said Buck. “ He ain’t that kinder bird. 
But he ’s always ready for business. I call him 
Puddin’ and he stays in our back yard. We live 
jest a little piece down the road. Let’s take that 
old buzzard of yourn down thar and see the two 
birds ‘ knock ’ a little.” 

“It’s like takin’ candy from a child,” said 
Snag grinning. “ I hate to do it. You won’t 


80 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

have nothing left of Puddin’ after Billy Mahone 
has been peckin on him two minutes. Still, I’m 
willin’ and I know Billy is.” 

As if to corroborate his master’s statement, 
the silver duckwing at this juncture crowed de- 
fiantly in his pasteboard prison. 

A minute later the boys had grabbed up the 
bandbox and started for the home of Buck Tim- 
berlake. Seeing the commotion. Uncle Ben bel- 
lowed out, “ Hi there! you young whippersnap- 
pers, what ’re you up to? ” 

<< We’re just goin’ to have a little rooster 
fight,” said Ham, in a mild tone of voice such as 
boys always use when caught in mischief. 

‘‘ What? ” yelled Uncle Ben, “ a rooster fight, 
did you say? Where? When? Why, dem my 
buttons. I’ll see it myself.’^ With that he sprang 
to his feet — or rather to his surviving foot — 
utterly forgetful of the fact that he was leaving 
Generals U. S. Grant and E. E. Lee locked in a 
desperate military encounter. The other old sol- 
dier did the same. Like Uncle Ben, he had plenty 
of sporting blood. 

Thus it came to pass that Billy Mahone and 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 81 

Puddin’ did battle before a most appreciative 
group of spectators. Even Pa Timberlake, 
though feeling unusually po’ly,’’ deigned to 
view the contest, which was one of the oddest 
cockfights on record. 

After seeing Buck Timberlake fight, Snag, 
always wise as a serpent, fully realized the boy 
in overalls was not the kind to blow ’’ with- 
out cause. His instinct told him, therefore, that 
Buck’s Puddin’ mu^t be an extraordinary bird, 
But he was none the less shocked and amazed 
when he actually saw the cock guaranteed to 
wallop Billy Mahone. 

Puddin’ was nothing short of a monstrosity. 
He was a gigantic, heavily built mongrel bird of 
red and buff with a short, scrubby tail and an 
outlay of feathers that went clean down to his 
toes. The city boys gave him the palm for being 

the biggest rooster in captivity.’^ Dressed for 
the table he probably would have weighed ten 
pounds. His huge feet looked like the claws of 
some prehistoric reptile and his spurs reminded 
one of cow horns. 

But he was no slacker. The little streak of 


82 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

game mixed in with his conglomerate Cochin- 
China, Shanghai and Plymouth Eock blood made 
him bold and aggressive. In fact, Puddin’ 
seemed “ spoiling for trouble all the time, and 
crowed incessantly when not clucking to the hens 
to gather around and inspect the worms he 
scratched up. All these he ungaUantly ate him- 
self, though he probably meant well in letting 
his many wives see them. 

Snag, on getting a good look at the enormous 
bird, had serious doubts as to what would happen 
to his seven-pound fowl. That ain’t no roos- 
ter,” said he rather scornfully, ‘‘ that’s an os- 
trich you’re raising for the beef market.” 

‘‘It’s a bird that’s never been licked,” re- 
torted Buck Timberlake, “ and what’s more, he 
ain’t never going to be licked.” 

The son of the house of Perkins demanded ten 
minutes time so that his rooster, now somewhat 
cramped by confinement in the box, might have 
a chance to “ stretch ” himself. Everybody 
agreed to this, though the silver duckwing, of 
course, had to be taken out of the sight and 
hearing of Buck Timberlake ’s red champion. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 83 

Billy Mahone was about the loveliest thing in 
the way of trim rooster-flesh that Virginia had 
ever produced — tall, slender, erect and graceful, 
with the look of an aristocrat from the tip of his 
short gray beak to the ends of his blue toes. 
Needless to say his comb and wattles had been 
trimmed away until his head looked like that of 
an eagle. 

Lovingly Snag bore the knightly bird in his 
arms to the scene of battle. No sooner did Billy 
see Puddin^ than he crowed, whereat the red 
monster, standing some thirty feet away, bel- 
lowed a hoarse challenge that sounded as if he 
were braying in a barrel. 

Snag relaxed his hold on the gamecock. In- 
stantly Billy flew to the fray. He landed ten 
feet in front of his enemy. With great danger to 
himself he paused immediately upon striking the 
ground to crow again. Then he darted at Puddin’ 
like a bolt of lightning. 

But the red monster, there to defend his wives 
and children as well as the good name of Charles 
City, gave not an inch. Or rather, to put it more 
accurately, he met the onslaught with a terrific- 


84 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

impact which sent Billy Mahone reeling back 
five feet. 

Ge-e-e-e-e-e, what a lick! ’’ exclaimed Ham, 
in deference to the skill shown by the gigantic 
Puddin^ That ain’t no rooster — that’s a steam 
locomotive wrapped np in feather mattresses.” 

“ Quityer gabbin’ and let ’em knock,” yelled 
Snag, somewhat impatiently, for he didn’t at all 
like the way things were going. Then, too, he 
thought Ham ought to root for Billy Mahone. 

That kildee of yourn is jest wasting his 
time,” tauntingly cried Buck Timberlake, now in 
great glee. ‘‘ The po’ thing is buttin’ into a 
brick wall. I hate to see a bird commit suicide. ’ ’ 

As if to prove the truth of Buck’s assertions, 
the silver duckwing vainly tried the same tactics 
a second time ; then a third, a fourth, a fifth, and 
so on until he had made eleven attempts to rush 
the red monster. Always the same result — al- 
ways the shock that sent the valiant bird reeling 
backward. 

Then Snag beheld a sight that sickened him. 
Billy Mahone did not return. Worse still, his left 
wing projected from his body and drooped help- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 85 

lessly. Puddings huge cowhorn spurs had in- 
jured it. The wounded bird would have to he 
careful about flying now. 

None seemed to realize this more than Billy 
himself. At a safe distance he paused, deliber- 
ately picked up a sharp-edged pebble and swal- 
lowed it with apparent relish, as though the tiny 
stone were the most delicious dainty on earth. 
Such pebbles go into chickens^ gizzards and help 
them to grind their food. But the silver duck- 
wing was not thinking about food. He had other 
things in mind. It was his purpose to make the 
red monster do some of the rushing now. 

Deceived by the gamecock’s trick, Puddin’ fell 
right into the trap. He made a fearful lunge 
at Billy Mahone and missed him. Then over and 
over again he tried to strike the silver duckwing 
but always without results. That bird invari- 
ably dodged. 

Disgusted with this sort of play. Buck yelled, 
‘ ‘ Git my rooster something that can fight. He ’s 
tired of projeckin’ with a side-stepper.” 

He’ll have something to fight, all right, in a 
minute,” replied Snag, still supremely confident. 


86 The Boys' Big Game Series 

This soon proved to be true. Puddin’ began to 
lose wind. He was overtaxing his great bulk 
with too much unwonted activity. His yellow 
beak flew open — a bad sign in a fighting rooster. 
Never once, however, did the great bird show 
fear. On the contrary he seemed to grow more 
pugnacious. But all the time Billy Mahone, still 
fresh as a pansy, kept inching up on his oppo- 
nent; and all the time Puddin^ got weaker. 

Finally the gamecock, dragging his wounded 
wing, came alongside his opponent, and try as he 
might, the larger bird could not reach him. Then 
Billy saw his chance. He seized Puddings comb, 
clung on to it with a bulldog grip and proceeded 
to pound his enemy with feet and spurs. 

Nobody can say how all this would have ended, 
for while the red monster was receiving terrific 
punishment, he nevertheless was finding a chance 
to get his second wind. But just as the fight had 
reached its most critical point a fearful noise, as 
of wild beasts, drew the attention of all in an- 
other direction. 

After various sniffings, bristlings and deep- 
throated growlings, Buck^s big white mongrel 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 87 

dog, part shepherd and part bull, had tackled 
Nigger, and the two animals now were at each 
other’s throats. 

In the excitement following, the owners of both 
roosters instinctively mshed to their birds and 
separated them, while the others ran to part the 
dogs. 

‘‘ Great day in the morning! What a thun- 
derin’ lot of fights we’ve had since breakfast,” 
exclaimed Ham when peace was restored. 

Just then both Puddin’ and Billy Mahone 
crowed lustily, which at least showed that they 
hadn’t had enough of bloodshed. 


; 


CHAPTER IX 

BUCK PAYS A VISIT IN ‘‘ STOEE CLOTHES 

It need hardly be said that Ham and Snag, 
before leaving the country gawk, Buck Timber- 
lake, asked him to come over to see them at 
Heron’s Nest. A boy who could fight like Buck 
and who possessed such a rooster as Puddin’, 
to say nothing of the dog that tried to whip 
Nigger, was not to be sneezed at. 

To the surprise of both Richmonders the 
Charles City native seemed embarrassed by the 
invitation. At first he said nothing. Then he 
explained that he had to hop around pretty 
lively to make a living ” and didn’t find much 
leisure for idling. While offering this explana- 
tion, Buck looked inquiringly out of a corner of 
his eye at Uncle Ben. 

The latter, hearing the conversation, was quick 
to say, Wliy, yes. Buck, we’d all be delighted 
to see you. Come often and stay long. There 
88 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 89 

always a plenty of he-pig and corn bread for onr 
friends. You can help these whippersnappers 
amuse themselves, and I know, too, that youdl 
keep ’em out of mischief. You’re a good steady 
boy. Buck, and a little play won’t hurt you.” 

After such an invitation as that, the country 
lad hesitated no longer. He promised to show 
up at the first opportunity. Enough words had 
been passed, however, to make Ham and Snag see 
Buck was not the kind to push himself where he 
was not wanted. His station in life was different 
from theirs and that of Uncle Ben, and in Charles 
City (as elsewhere in the Old Dominion) there 
were persons who talked of nothing but their 
family trees. 

Ham and Snag didn’t worry in the least about 
blue blood and ancestors, but all the same each 
of them felt a thrill when they saw the old home- 
stead at Heron’s Nest. The ancient brick house 
had a dilapidated dignity that could not fail to be 
impressive. It lacked paint everywhere and in 
some places was literally falling to pieces, yet 
neither the flight of years nor the indigence of 
its present occupants could alter its unmistak- 


90 The Boys* Big Game Series 

able air of aristocracy. Everything about the 
place told a pathetic story of former grandeur. 
Even the venerable mossgrown oaks, the aging 
cedars, the huge waxy magnolias, the tangle of 
old-time garden flowers and the ragged hedges of 
boxwood seemed to whisper a requiem of better 
days long dead. 

Over this shattered estate, beaten down by the 
remorseless hoof of war and well-nigh strangled 
by the poverty following the period of Eecon- 
struction, presided Uncle Ben. He had come 
back from the hostilities a broken man with but 
one leg and no ambition to work. All that he 
could bring himself to do in 1880 was to dream 
of the past, chew tobacco and boss a few lazy 
negroes who pretended to labor on the planta- 
tion. Uncle Ben was a loud-talking, good- 
natured bachelor with an overwhelming dread of 
all women save his two aged relatives. Cousins 
Millie and Betty Lou Latane, spinster sisters, 
who kept house for him. 

These indigent old maids also had been left 
behind in the march of progress. On meeting a 
stranger they invariably asked the names of his 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 91 

grandparents, and unless the ancestors could 
measure up to their standards, the stranger en- 
joyed little more of their attention. Yet at heart 
Cousins Millie and Betty Lou were the kindest 
and most charitable of gentlewomen. 

It was into this circle that Buck Timberlake 
came one morning about a week after the arrival 
of Ham and Snag to spend the day at Heron ^s 
Nest with his new found friends. But it was a 
different Buck from the gawk in overalls. The 
would-be preacher now wore his “ Sunday-go-to- 
meetin’ ’’ store clothes and looked almost like 
a city boy except for his brogan shoes. His whole 
appearance seemed to have changed, and further- 
more, his speech also was altered. He no longer 
said ‘‘ ain’t ” and git,” and it shocked Ham 
and Snag to note the way he avoided double 
negatives. Evidently Buck had his company 
manners ’ ’ with him. He even thawed out Misses 
Millie and Betty Lou by his graceful attentions, 
which was going some, for they regarded him 
as po ’-white.” 

As soon as the boys could steal away from 
the grown-ups — which they were not slow to do 


92 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

— Buck slipped back into bis loose way of talk- 
ing, which was a great comfort to his friends. 
Ham and Snag, at that time of their lives, always 
felt uncomfortable in the presence of good gram- 
mar, either written or spoken. They deliberately 
made awful mistakes in speech so that nobody 
could call them sissies.^’ 

But now here came Buck, completely changing 
their views. In the presence of ladies,’^ said 
this strange gawk, a fellow should constantly 
be on his p’s and q’s and try not to talk like a 
darky. I read a lot of nights when our old kero- 
sene lamp has got ile and a wick in it, and I 
notice the stuff in books don’t sound nothing at 
all like common, everyday talk.” 

Ham, who was also something of a reader, had 
likewise noticed this, but he didn’t want his gram- 
matical shortcomings ‘ ‘ rubbed in ” on him, so he 
changed the subject in rather an ugly way. 

‘‘ Charles City is a mighty measly sort of 
county, ain’t it. Buck? ” he asked with a strange 
forgetfulness of the fact that to every man his 
native land is grand and beautiful. I notice on 
the map of Virginia it’s a little bit of a place, 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 93 

and they say it ain’t got one-tenth as many peo- 
ple as Eichmond.” 

At this remark every hair on Buck’s head 
seemed to bristle. Charles City a measly 
county! ” he scornfully repeated. Why, listen 
to that! Who would have thought it; and you 
in the fir^t grade at high school? It’s the hon- 
orablest, distinguishedest county in the whole 
world. What other has given two presidents 
(Harrison and Tyler) to the United States and 
furnished the grandfather and great-grandfather 
of another? Why, they call it the ^ presidential 
county.’ Don’t you know it produced the mother 
of General Eobert E. Lee and five congressmen 
and whole lots of judges and — and — and — 
and — ? ” 

^‘And the Charles City dragon,” smilingly put 
in Ham at this juncture. 

This remark at first seemed to knock the wind 
out of Buck as a county booster. For a moment 
he said nothing and then he sent forth his awful 
horse laugh. Yes,” he said, we’ve got a 
dragon, too, and I ain’t lyin’ when I say she’s 
the largest ever seen on earth.” 


94 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Why do you call the dragon a ‘ she ’’ in- 
quired Snag. ‘‘ I suppose there must be he- 
dragons and she-dragons just as there are hens 
and roosters and ladies and gentlemen, but some- 
how I never thought of it that way.’’ 

At this question Buck, who hitherto had ap- 
peared to feel a little bit uncomfortable in his 
Sunday clothes, almost split his sides with mirth. 

Well, sirs. I’ll tell you how it is,” said he. 
‘‘ The lady dragon of Charles City is nothing 
more or less than an old cow sturgeon.” 

cow sturgeon — what’s that? ” exclaimed 
both youngsters in one breath. 

Buck gave another whoop of glee at the in- 
quiry. “ For the land’s sake,” chuckled he, 
ignorant as you two town boys are of every- 
thing touchin’ Charles City, I did suppose you 
knew that a sturgeon is a great big horny-lookin’ 
feesh; and, of course, a ‘ cow sturgeon ’ is a she- 
grown-up sturgeon. We call the old he-ones 
‘ buck sturgeons.’ That’s how I get the name 
they call me by down here. I’ve caught my share 
of buck sturgeons and everybody knows it. They 
make heap better eatin’ than the cows. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 95 

Our hifalutin’ dragon is nuthin’ but a nailin’ 
big female somewhere ’s near seven feet long 
and weighing mighty nigh 400 pounds, I reckon. 
She’s gittin’ ready to spawn and is most poppin’ 
open with eggs. I seen that cow jumpin’ out of 
the water less than two weeks ago. Looks like 
we can’t ketch her. She’s bust through two or 
three drift nets.” 

Ham and Snag listened intently to all that 
Buck said, and yet the puzzled look on their faces 
was slow to wear off. Finally the latter re- 
marked, You ain’t actin’ like you wanter fool 
us, but your story don’t gee horses with what 
other people have told us. A colored man on the 
Ariel said the dragon left footprints on the sand 
and that he’d seen ’em. Now, who ever heard 
of a fish having feet and even if he — or she — 
did, what business would they have to go walkin’ 
round on sand? ” 

Of course Buck had to guffaw at this also. 
‘‘I’ve heard that yarn, too,” he replied, “ but 
I don’t take no stock in it. If you listen to 
everything you hear darkies sayin’, you’ll go 
clean looney. There’s an old drunken darky 


96 The Boys* Big Game Series 

around here — they call him ^ Gumbo * or ^ Gum- 
my ’ — who even insists he has seen the dragon 
face to face. What^s more, he swears that he 
himself actually let the varmint out of a box. 

When you hear Gumbo spoutin^ you can 
hardly help believin’ him, he tells such a straight 
tale. The only thing that keeps me from gittin’ 
my head turned by the tale is that I happen to 
know Gummy is plum crazy at times. He be- 
lieves in bants and conjuration, too, and when 
not off in his head he soaks cheap whiskey. Just 
before he started this\ dragon lie he had the 
delirium tremens from drink and swore he saw 
nothing but lizards, big lizards and little lizards 
— just oodles of ’em.” 

Eeally it did look as if Buck had ‘ ‘ knocked the 
socks ” off all the talk about the Charles City 
dragon. But the Eichmond boys were deter- 
mined to believe in the existence of the monster. 
Then, too, they vastly preferred a real, honest- 
to-goodness dragon to a plain, ordinary old cow 
sturgeon. Ham, in truth, had set his heart on 
killing the dragon, while Snag longed for a few 
cracks at it with his trusty gravel-shooter. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 97 

So it is not to be wondered at that Ham, as a 
parting shot, had this to say, “ Well, anyhow, it 
was a preacher who told ns that the thing had 
feet and said he’d seen the footprints.” 

If ’twas a preacher, why, then, I ain’t got no 
more to say,” replied Buck, somewhat abashed. 

We preachers all gotta stand together and we 
don’t lie. But dragon or no dragon, I swear I’ve 
seen the old cow sturgeon, and she sure ain’t no 
bull minnow in size.” 


CHAPTER X 


‘‘ MISHE-NAHMA, KING. OF FISHES 

Buck Timberlake, as may be gathered from 
what already has been said, had plenty of poetry 
in the soul beneath his rough exterior. But the 
boy probably would have been disgusted had he 
known that Longfellow wrote these lines in con- 
nection with Hiawatha’s fishing: 

the white sand of the bottom 
Lay the monster, Mishe-Nahma, 

Lay the sturgeon, King of Pishes.” 

No man is particularly in love with the things 
that help him to earn his daily bread; and Buck, 
young as he was, had put in some pretty hard 
licks catching sturgeon, at that time one of the 
chief industries of the Charles City water front. 
The boy didn’t regard the big buck fish as the 
least bit kingly nor did he consider the cows ” 
in any way queenly. On the contrary, he had a 
98 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 99 

great contempt for the representatives of both 
sexes. He was correct in his judgment, too. The 
sturgeon is an ignoble fish. It lives to eat — 
and be eaten. It is neither beautiful nor game. 

Vicente Blasco Ibanez, the celebrated Spanish 
novelist, in his great novel, ‘‘ Mare Nostrum,’’ 
gives a description of the sturgeon that would 
have suited Buck Timberlake. After telling how 
the codfish, a devourer of herring, multiplies by 
millions, the author goes on to explain that but 
for the greed of the sturgeon, which eats the cod, 
the latter would soon overrun the seas of the 
world. Then he adds that the sturgeon, which 
also reproduces in unbelievable numbers, would 
likewise upset the equilibrium of the animal king- 
dom were it not for the interference of a ‘‘su- 
perior glutton,” the shark, which in turn eats 
the sturgeon. 

Fortunately this last mentioned “ destroyer ” 
(according to the Spanish writer) brings forth 
only one baby shark, though that youngster, 
says Ibanez, “ is bom armed and ferocious, 
ready from the very first moment to continue the 
paternal exploits like a feudal heir.” 


100 The Boys' Big Game Series 

Virginia can lay no claim to the greedy stur- 
geon as one of her exclusive products. The big 
fish, which is anadromous (that is, a dweller in 
the sea save when it comes into fresh water to 
spawn) once was common along the Southern At- 
lantic seaboard. It is rapidly becoming extinct, 
however, for man has proved a far worse enemy 
than the shark. 

Yet even today an occasional sturgeon, like 
some ghost of the past, is caught in the fish traps 
beneath the river bridges of Eichmond. Such 
catches now are regarded as sensational and 
attract widespread attention. Yet the people of 
Colonial times, or even in Buck Timberlake’s 
day, would have laughed at any attention at- 
tracted by a sturgeon. As soon would they have 
expected one to pause to look at an ordinary 
milch cow. 

An accurate historian, Philip A. Bruce, writ- 
ing of the Old Dominion of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, tells us that Sir Thomas Dale secured over 
5,000 of these fish in one cast of the seine. It is 
recorded of another group of Virginia colonists 
that on one occasion they drew to the shore a 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 101 

struggling mass of surgeon and other fish that 
would have afforded a full cargo for an ordinary 
frigate.’’ Captain John Smith — he of Poca- 
hontas fame— -also has left us a thrilling fish 
story.” Says he, writing entirely about himself 
(as he usually did) : ‘‘I once took 52 sturgeons 
at a draught; at another 68.” 

Sturgeon meat today sells in Richmond at from 
40 to 60 cents a pound, according to the season, 
and is considered a luxury which only the well- 
to-do can afford. The fish marketed, except in 
rare cases, no longer come from Virginia waters. 
They are shipped to the Old Dominion capital 
from North Carolina. 

In 1880 things were different. James river 
sturgeon then were consigned to Richmond by the 
boatload, and the meat could be purchased at five 
cents a pound. 

So numerous were the sturgeon in Virginia 
waters before and during Buck Timberlake’s boy- 
hood days that the darkies not only ate the meat 
all during the summer, but cured it for winter 
use. Cured sturgeon, however, was not regarded 
as aristocratic diet. Prosperous people “ turned 


102 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

up their noses ’’ at it, and sneeringly alluded to 
the stuff as “ Charles City bacon.’’ 

The fate of the sturgeon became sealed when 
Americans, following the example of the Rus- 
sians, awoke to a realization of the fact that the 
eggs, or roe, of the fish furnished a table delicacy 
which few water foods can surpass. No need of 
sharks to keep down the sturgeon population ” 
after this discovery ! Man took the work in hand 
and the effects of his ruthlessnesB are all too evi- 
dent. Today the sturgeon is rarely seen in the 
American rivers and lakes where once it dis- 
ported itself in countless thousands; and caviar, 
the canned product of its eggs, is almost worth 
its weight in silver. Yet less than three-quarters 
of a century ago people carelessly threw away 
the roe and disdained the eating of it. They gave 
a preference to the flesh of the buck sturgeon, a 
smaller fish than the ‘‘ cow.” 

In the good old days “ befo’ de war ” and up 
into the eighties, the sturgeon, along with the 
shad, came to Charles City as early as April and 
remained until September. Among the writhing, 
wriggling horde that swarmed the waters were 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 103 

some specimens that had attained a length of ten 
feet and weighed possibly 500 pounds; those un- 
doubtedly were patriarchal exceptions. More 
commonly one saw five and six footers in the 
market, while the great majority — certainly in 
the early spring — were little fellows about three 
feet long. If the truth were known, it probably 
would be found these were the kind Captain John 
Smith landed when he had such a good day’s 
sport. But the Captain was not the kind of chap 
to ruin a yarn with such details as that. 

Though well equipped to make himself dis- 
agreeable, the sturgeon puts up little or no fight 
when caught and is usually rolled into the boat 
like a log. 

Nobody can say that this ever-hungry denizen 
of the deep is a beauty. Even a catfish can 

give him cards and spades ” on good looks. 
But the sturgeon is about as little like a catfish 
as a greyhound is like a pug dog. His coloring 
on the back and sides is a sombre, nondescript 
brown which shades into white on the stomach. 
Most noticeable of his ugly features is his con- 
ical, tapering snout. 


104 The Boys* Big Game Series 

If you look up Mr. Buck and Mrs. Cow Stur- 
geon in your encyclopedia, you will be told by 
that book that their head is ‘‘ completely invested 
by ganoid plates, some of which are median, 
while on the body these plates are arranged in 
longitudinal rows with smaller plates between.” 
Just what all this means only a few of us know. 
Perhaps it is a learned way of saying that the 
sturgeon is encased in a hide that is full of 
great horny scales — scales running lengthwise 
down the body like ridges of mountains. One 
sees the same sort of hide on a crocodile, and in 
the good old days described in fairy tales, drag- 
ons also must have had them. 

The old cow sturgeon described by Buck Tim- 
berlake, probably paraded herself around while 
trying to find a place in which to deposit her 
eggs. This duty she would accomplish from time 
to time by rubbing herself on the rocks and 
stumps under the water. The friction helped the 
job. Her family responsibilities were heavy. If 
she was like the other lady sturgeons of Charles 
City, she was due to lay anywhere from one to 
two million eggs. That meant a family of some 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 105 

size. Think of having to wash the faces, hands 
and ears of one or two million children. And 
what a lot of scolding she must have had to do to 
keep her little ones from getting wet on rainy 
days! However, you will find no speculation 
along this line in the encyclopedia. 


CHAPTEE XI 

UNCLE BEN TALKS OF DANCING POINT 

Ham and Snag had hardly been at Heron 
Nest two weeks before they altogether ceased to 
worry about their misdeeds and misfortunes in 
Eichmond. No more did the fat boy fear that his 
footsteps were being dogged/’ and no more did 
Snag imagine the penitentiary or the gallows 
awaited him and his friend. 

Possibly Uncle Ben’s newspaper had some- 
thing to do with this ease of mind. At any rate, 
it revealed that none of the grave-robbers had 
been caught, or were likely to be caught, despite 
the supposed activity of the police. What was 
better still, the same newspaper a few days be- 
fore had announced a remarkable sequel to Nig- 
ger’s rescue from the dog pound. 

The morning after the big Newfoundland and 
his humble associates escaped from the toils of 
the law, a reporter got wind of the ‘‘story.” 

106 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 107 

Evidently he was a good, kind-hearted reporter 
who loved dogs and boys, for he seemed to sur- 
mise almost exactly what had actually happened. 
This sympathetic soul wrote a clever, half-humor- 
ous, half-pathetic article, which, after describ- 
ing the escape, pictured the heartaches of a boy 
who loses his pup at the hands of the dog- 
catchers. 

The story set the whole town laughing. 
Even the police and the poundmaster chuckled 
over it. Then happened the oddest thing of all. 
An eccentric rich man, touched by what he had 
read in the Dispatch, declared he would pay that 
year’s dog licenses for every poor boy in Rich- 
mond. There must have been many poor hoys 
with an astonishing number of equally poor curs 
in the town, for this act of generosity cost the 
e( 0 centric rich man nearly $500 and put the dog- 
catchers out of business for many months. 

It seemed the very irony of fate that neither 
Nigger nor his master benefited by the goodness 
of the philanthropist since they were both out of 
the city. Nevertheless hoy and dog alike kept 
cheerful. Nigger in his new realm made friends 


108 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

with people quite as readily as did Ham. So far 
as his fellow dogs were concerned, he was rather 
stand-offish.^’ He did not even deign to notice 
the hounds on the plantation, but he soon came 
to amicable terms with Buck’s big bristler, and 
that was something to be thankful for. 

Snag and his gamecock, Billy Mahone, were 
not so quick to horn into the good graces of those 
about them. Misses Millie and Betty Lou did not 
at all like the idea of having their cowardly 
Dominique roosters walloped daily by the silver 
duckwing. Not until these awkward fowls had 
learned to put up their back feathers and scoot, 
was there peace in the barnyard. Even then it 
was purchased only by letting Billy Mahone be 
absolutely cock of the walk. 

. As for Snag, with his not-too-clean ears, his 
grimy hands and his dreadful gravel-shooters, he 
was long a suspicious character ” in the eyes 
of the two old maids. On the very first day the 
spinsters exacted from him a solemn pledge that 
he would shoot none of the birds about the place 
except the English sparrows, which already had 
begun to thrust aside the robins, the tom-tits, the 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 109 

wrens, the catbirds and the mocking birds. 

In course of time, however. Snag won all 
hearts, and long before he left Charles City he 
often had occasion to blush uncomfortably when 
he overheard the ladies describing him as a 
very sweet, cute boy.^’ 

Uncle Ben, for his part, couldn^t see enough 
of ‘‘ those demed city whippersnappers,” as he 
called his guests, and though he still roared and 
thundered at Ham and Snag, they could twist 
him around their fingers. 

This was well illustrated one morning. The 
one-legged veteran announced that he was going 
over to Dancing Point, a small river community 
a few miles away, to arrange for the cutting of 
some railroad ties. His business, he said, would 
keep him from home a week or more, and Buck 
Timberlake was to accompany him as handy man. 
The two were to live in a shack in true camp 
fashion and a negro fisherman was to cook for 
them. ‘‘ Boys, it^s near the place where the 
Charles City dragon is supposed to live,’^ said 
Uncle Ben, laughing. If I kill him 1^11 bring 
you back a few teeth and maybe a claw.’^ 


110 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Little did Uncle Ben realize what a sensation 
his remarks were going to canse. He had hardly 
announced his plans when Ham and Snag began 
pleading that they might accompany him and 
Buck. ‘‘ Don’t leave us behind,” begged the 
youngsters. ‘‘ Where Buck Timberlake can go 
we surely can follow on land or water. We^re 
crazy to live in a cabin, and honest, we’re simply 
dying to see the dragon.” 

“ It’s not to be thought of for a second,” 
snapped Cousin Millie, who was stoutly backed 
up by Cousin Betty Lou. ‘‘ Those boys will cer- 
tainly catch fever and ague in the swamps. Who 
ever heard of such a thing, Ben? You ought to 
be ashamed of yourself even to listen to such a 
proposition. Why! the idea of risking the lives 
of two delicate little fellows on such a wild-goose 
chase as that. Even if they escape sickness, 
they’ll get their feet wet, or fall in the river, or 
be bitten by a snake or — something.” 

You’re exactly right. Cousin Millie, and so 
are you. Cousin Betty Lou,” soothingly replied 
Uncle Ben. “ I’d be ashamed to look the moth- 
ers of these two boys in the face if I subjected 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 111 

them to such risks. Buck and I are goin^ in some 
mighty out-of-the-way places where kids couldn’t 
navigate. I reckon it will be a sight better to 
leave the brats here and let you two coddle ^em 
up with camphor and Peruvian bark and mutton 
suet and buttermilk and sweet potato pies.” 

What a deceitful old rascal Uncle Ben was! 
Even as he spoke the peg-leg veteran slyly 
winked an eye at Ham, and that young American 
instantly knew that he and Snag had won their 
point. Cousins Millie and Betty Lou, poor inno- 
cents, likewise thought that their wishes would 
prevail. This belief became a conviction when 
Uncle Ben yelled at the top of his voice, Now 
close your flytraps, you young hellions. I don’t 
want to hear another word about this business. 
Get your sugar rags and rattles and run off and 
play.” 

Half an hour later, while the easy-going 
Charles Cityan and his worshipers were out in 
the bam lot looking at a promising bull calf. Ham 
said to his kinsman: ‘‘ Uncle Ben, what sorter 
place is Dancin’ Point? ” 

Well, Mr. Question Box, it ain’t much of a 


112 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

place to brag about, and we don’t have to keep 
police hanging about to prevent its being stolen. 
Still, it’s all right if you know how to take it. 
It’s been there a long time and it’s likely to stay 
still longer. Right down there in that neck o’ 
the woods the Chickahominy river joins the 
Jeems. Yessir, I say ‘ Jeems.’ We old-timers 
don’t put on airs and call it James River like 
you swell city folks do.” 

Why do they call it Dancin’ Point? ” 

“ You ought to h.- . gumption enough to know 
that the place gets its name ‘ Point ’ from the 
fact that there is a promontory at the junction 
of the two streams. As for the rest of the name, 
that’s due to a tradition that was once current 
among the sailors of the river. 

“ The property, long, long years ago, was 
owned by a certain man whose name was — or 
ought to have been — Lightfoot. On the planta- 
tion there was a marsh which the owner was very 
desirous of clearing up, and tradition says the 
scheme was violently opposed by the devil. An 
interview between Old Nick and Lightfoot took 
place, during which it was agreed that a trial 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 113 

of dancing should be held to decide whether the 
marsh should be cleared up or not. The night 
was appointed and the spot chosen. At the hour 
the parties to the contest met and began their 
exercises. Flaming torches and shooting stars 
from the swamp lighted the ground upon which 
the trial took place. 

“ When piorning broke the devil retired, and 
Lightfoot, who could everlastingly shake a hoof, 
discovered that the spot formerly occupied by 
the swamp, was a field high and dry. He had 
outdanced Old Nick. 

Lights still float over the field at night and 
on the ground where the dance took place no 
grass or herb will grow. A bare spot of a hun- 
dred yards in extent even now ma,.Ab the scene 
of strife — at least they say it does, though IVe 
never seen it. No freedman’s foot crosses the 
spot after nightfall and no fox there seeks his 
prey.’’ 

‘‘ Gosh, that’s creepy and skeery. Uncle Ben! ” 
exclaimed Ham, who was always ready to swal- 
low any yam — hook, line and rod. ‘‘Do you 
reckon it’s the truth? ” 


114 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Well, it may be,’’ replied Uncle Ben. You 
see it is all said to have happened years and 
years ago, long before I was born — yes, way 
back in Colonial times. So you see I wasn’t 
there, but I can’t say it ainH true. Besides, I 
know this: it’s as true as the story about the 
Charles City dragon. But you boys mustn’t ex- 
pect to find too much dry land where we’re 
headed for. To tell you the truth we’re mostly 
going to be in swamps and marshes.” 

Didn’t you say we were to have a colored 
cook? ” inquired Snag, who never neglected his 
appetite. ‘‘ What’s his name.” 

Yes, we’re going to have a crazyfied darky 
they call ‘ Gumbo ’ or ‘ Gummy ’ for cook.” 

‘‘Ain’t that grand? ” yelled Ham. “ You may 
shoot me if he ain’t the darky who says he let 
the dragon out of a box. Bet your bottom dollar 
I’m going to pump him and get at the truth.” 


CHAPTER XII 

THE COW STURGEON GETS BUSY 

<< Try that trick on me just one time more and 
1^11 biff you in the sniffer with one of my guffins. 
I’m daggone tired of your monkeying.” 

This remark, which probably would have 
proved unintelligible even to the average citizen 
of 1880, was hotly hurled by Hamilton Bacon 
Willingham at Jefferson Davis Perkins. It 
meant that Ham, weary of the pranks of Snag, 
intended to kick him in the nose with his foot 
unless the latter quit his practical jokes. 

There was good excuse for Ham’s indignation. 
Any other person in his place might have uttered 
an even more dreadful threat. The two city 
boys, as well as Buck Timberlake, were swim- 
ming in the Jeems ” near Dancing Point, and 
were at least an eighth of a mile from shore in 
very deep water. It was a superb moonlight 
115 


116 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

night and the world contained no happier trio 
than these three youngsters. 

But Snag, who could dive like a South Sea 
islander, had a fiendish way of ducking Ham. 
The latter, though an indefatigable swimmer, 
disliked to get his head under water. Knowing 
this. Snag delighted in submerging himself, com- 
ing up beneath Ham, catching him by the foot 
and dragging him under. He tried this trick 
several times before the fat boy lost patience. 
Then Snag stopped, for he saw that his friend 
was getting angry. 

Now the laughable thing about Ham’s final 
threat was the fact that it came at a time when 
Snag was actually innocent. Therefore that 
young gentleman replied with virtuous indigna- 
tion, I say I ain’t laid hands on you for five 
minutes. If you’re skeerd of water you’d better 
let me tote you back and then keep out of it. 
I’m way behind you. Maybe ’twas Nigger nosin’ 
up against you. ’ ’ 

Ham gave a swift look back to see if this state- 
ment could be the truth. Yes, sure enough, it did 
seem to be the truth. There was Snag trailing 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 117 

some ten feet in the rear, and following close be- 
hind were Buck and Nigger. The Newfoundland 
was quite as good a swimmer as either of the 
three boys and always went into the water with 
them. 

I say you did come up just a second ago 
and push me,’’ insisted Ham, who never liked to 
yield a point to Snag. 

‘‘And I say you’re a liar if you keep on insist- 
in’,” retorted Snag. “ What’s more, if you 
don’t like it you can lump it soon as we git back 
on dry land.” 

Here was cause for a real, old-time, knock- 
, down-and-drag-out boy fight. But the fight never 
came off. Further hostilities were interrupted 
by a frantic yell from Ham. “ Lord have mercy! 
The thing has scraped me again,” he bawled. 
“ Ouch, ouch, ouch, my leg feels like a great big 
saw has gone over it.” 

Hardly were these words out of the young- 
ster’s mouth when a huge scaly brown body, 
gleaming in the moonlight like some slimy rep- 
tile of antediluvian days, leaped five feet out of 
the river with a blood-curdling splash immedi- 


118 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

ately in front of Ham. Then leaving a trail of 
foam, it ploughed and churned the waters all 
about the terrified boy until he was almost mad 
with fright. 

‘‘ Help, help, help! ’’ screamed Ham, not know- 
ing what to do or whither to turn. It’s a man- 
eatin’ shark and he’s goin’ to chaw me up.” 

Almost instantly after sounding this piteous 
appeal, the boy sensed the approach of assist- 
ance. On his left he felt something warm, wet 
and hairy. It was Nigger, who at the first sign 
of danger had made a wild lunge for his master. 
On his right, almost immediately under his stom- 
ach, appeared Snag, with eyes nearly popping 
out of his head. 

‘‘ I seen it, too,” said the owner of Billy Ma- 
hone, ‘‘ and ’twas sumthin’ awful. I’ve got the 
billywiggles I’m so skeered, but I’ll stick by yer. 
Ham. ’Tain’t no doubt about its being a shark 
— a regular man-eater. I’ve read about ’em in 
geog ’fries. But maybe, bein’ a man-eater, it 
won’t pester itself with boys. Anyhow, I’ll swim 
right alongside yer. Cousins Millie and Betty 
Lou says we’re always dirty. Who knows? We 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 119 

may turn the shark stomach so he won’t wanter 
make a meal of us? ” 

Just at this juncture another splashing, ac- 
companied by a mighty puffing and blowing, 
threw a second scare into Ham and Snag. In- 
stinctively glancing around — although both just 
then would have preferred to shut their eyes and 
die without a struggle — the boys beheld the face 
of Buck Timberlake. It was a sight to behold 
— that face — and at first appeared to be all 
mouth. 

Buck was having convulsions of laughter. At 
the risk of drowning he’d open his flytrap to 
chuckle, swallow a great gulp of water, spew it 
out and then laugh again, only to get another 
deluge. At one time he was spouting and spray- 
ing like a whale, but finally he regained self- 
control and tauntingly cried out, I wouldn’t 
take a million for it. Plague if it ain’t funnier 
than a box of monkeys. Now you believe me, 
don’t yer? and when I tell you about that old 
cow sturgeon I reckon you won’t beat me down 
that I’m lyin’.” 

Ham and Snag were too much relieved at this 


120 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

information to indulge in any ‘ ^ back talk. ’ ’ Any- 
thing was better than a man-eating shark. Fur- 
thermore, they were touched when Buck, ap- 
proaching a little closer, said, Well, sirs, this 
is the first time I’ve ever beam tell of a stur- 
geon gittin’ people scared. Still, if you feel 
shaky and don’t think you can make shore. I’ll 
try to carry you in even though I bust doin’ it. 
If it’s a case of gittin’ drownded we’ll all do it 
together.” 

“ Make shore the cat’s foot! ” exclaimed Snag, 
much hurt at hearing his and Ham’s ability as 
water rats questioned. “ Me and Ham can tie 
both our arms together and give you swimmin’ 
lessons.” 

Snag by now had grown so peeved that he 
really intended to say more, but just then he saw 
the waters surge up again in a foam-flecked fur- 
row, and as quick as a flash he changed his tune. 

There ’tis again. Ham,” he bellowed. ‘‘It’s 
cornin’ right at us. You gotta dive now, whether 
you like it or not.” 

With that both youngsters went down beneath 
the waves like bullets. When they came up 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 121 

again, after what would have seemed an amaz- 
ingly long time to an onlooker, the hoys beheld a 
strange sight. Fifty feet away they saw the 
giant fish scudding towards the Surry County 
shore and in his wake followed Buck Timherlake 
in close pursuit. The Charles Cityan was actu- 
ally chasing the sturgeon in the water as a dog 
chases a rabbit on dry land. But the fish soon 
showed it had all the best of the race, and the 
country gawk — who by the way was far from 
being a gawk in the water — rejoined his com- 
panions. That feesh sure was in a glee of 
playinV’ coolly remarked Buck as if nothing 
at all unusual had happened. 

All hands by now were far more weary than 
they were willing to admit and so the trio turned 
back to land. On reaching the shack (it may 
readily be guessed that Uncle Ben had taken the 
boys on his expedition to Dancing Point) the 
youngsters found the one-legged veteran seated 
on a soap box contentedly smoking his pipe. 

After hearing an account of all that had hap- 
pened, the ex-Confederate readily agreed with 
Buck that Ham and Snag had shown the white 


122 The Boys' Big Game Series 

feather in the presence of an absolutely harm- 
less, toothless fish. Then abruptly changing the 
subject, Uncle Ben said, “ I wonder what that 
Gumbo is up to. I sent him down to the spring 
more than an hour ago for a jug of buttermilk 
and haven’t seen or heard of him since.” 

As if by magic the darky appeared just at 
that moment. Ham and Snag, who already were 
on good terms with this queer specimen of black 
humanity, immediately began repeating a sense- 
less rhyme which the neighborhood children often 
sang when they saw the negro. It opened with 
the words, 

‘‘Gumbo, Gumbo-reezer 
Stole my mother 
Ice-cream freezer.” 

Prior to this the negro had always appeared 
to enjoy this silly doggerel and usually pretended 
to enter a vigorous denial as to the theft of the 
ice-cream freezer. But now he maintained a sul- 
len silence and spoke not a word. When Uncle 
Ben and the boys looked at the man they were 
astonished to see that his eyes were ablaze with 
wrath and his features contorted with rage. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 123 

What^s wrong, Gumbo? ’’ queried tbe vet- 
eran. ‘‘ Your lips are sticking out like two red 
bananas. Haven ^t been drinking again, bave 
you? Where’s my buttermilk? ” 

I ain’t got no buttermilk and I doan keer 
ef I doan nevah git none,” growled Gumbo. 

De jug dun bust. I’se mos’ busted myse’f, 
too,” Then changing his rather insolent tone, he 
limped up to the ex-Confederate and said, more 
respectfully, Cap’n Ben, I ain’t meanin’ ter 
sass yer, but I gwine home. Thar ain’t no nig- 
ger on earth would stand de projickin uv dem 
dar two lil white boys fum de city.” 

‘‘ WThy, Uncle Gumbo, we didn’t mean any- 
thing wrong when we hollered out that poetry 
about the ice-cream freezer,” said Ham, in a 
most apologetic tone. We know you don’t 
steal, honest we do.” 

‘‘ I ain’t keerin’ nuthin’ ’bout no ice-cream 
freezer,’ replied Gumbo in a surly tone. You 
knows moughty well I ain’t. I’se grumblin’ ’bout 
dat pizen mean trick you young gempmuns dun 
played me. Ain’t you two dun flung me down 
off ’n dat log by whackin’ me wif a plank? Naw, 


124 The Boys* Big Game Series 

’twon’t no plank, neither, ’twas a piece scant- 
lin’ wood mos’ big as a telegraf pole. Dat ain’t 
no way to treat a healthy nigger, much less a 
nigger all twis’ np with rheumatiks like me. You 
dun moughty nigh bus’ ehry hone in my body.” 

Ham looked at Snag and Snag looked at Ham, 
while Uncle Ben looked at both boys. Nobody 
spoke at first. Then the ‘‘ Cap’n ” said, rather 
sternly: Boys, I’ll stand for a lot from you, 

but even down here in Charles City, where ne- 
groes are thick as hops, we expect our young 
people to treat them with respect. One more 
trick like this and back you both go to Richmond 
on the next boat.’^ 

“ But Ham and Snag haven’t done anything. 
Captain,” said Buck Timberlake, with a puzzled 
look on his face. ^‘As we’ve just told you, we’ve 
been in the river and none of us was near the 
spring.” 

I don’t know what Gummy’s talkin’ about,” 
said Ham. 

Me neither,” put in Snag. 

‘‘ Cap’n, ’tain’t right fur de likes uv me to 
call no young white gempmun a liar,” replied 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 125 

Gumbo, an^ dem two lil white pewees fum de 
city ginerally dun treat me moughty respectful, 
but I ain’t foolin’ ’bout dis here bizness. Some- 
body dun paste me one orful crack wif a piece 
uv scantlin’ wood jes’ as I stoop down nigh de 
spring on a log to fotcb dat buttermilk jug. May- 
be ’twon’t dem tbar boys. I ain’t axin’ nobody 
ter b’lieve me. All you gotta do is ter run down 
tbar to de spring an’ see de log an’ de busted 
jug fer yerse’fs. But doan projick ’round tbar 
too long. I gotta bave some sperrits of turpen- 
kine or sumpin’ on my so’ spots. Dey’s gittin’ 
angrier ebry minute.” 


CHAPTEE XIII 


GUMBO LIFTS THE LID OFF A MONSTEB 

Although Uncle Ben had a rough way of talk- 
ing to negroes and appeared to treat them as if 
they were mere cattle, there was not a colored 
person in the county who failed to admire and 
respect him. When he roared out, ‘‘ Get busy 
there, you lazy black scoundrel,’’ he could start 
even the most trifling darkies working with a 
vim. The secret of his success as a ‘‘ boss of 
hands ” lay in the fact that he was always fair 
and reasonable. This the black people, despite 
their indolence and disposition to shirk, under- 
stood perfectly. They knew, too, that the one- 
legged veteran would go miles to help them in 
the hour of misfortune. 

Chief among the humble adorers of Uncle Ben 
was Gumbo, the black sheep of Charles City dark- 
town. This mysterious darky, who kept all in 
continual doubt as to his sanity, had received 
126 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 127 

many a cussin’ out ’’ from tlie old soldier, but 
none, however violent, had shaken his loyalty. 
Long ago, with his almost uncanny shrewdness, 
the negro had discovered that Uncle Ben^s ‘‘ cus- 
sin^ outs ’’ were invariably followed by some un- 
usual act of kindness on his part. The reward 
in such cases was worth the hot blast that pre- 
ceded it. 

On the night Gumbo claimed to have been 
knocked oft the log, he was severely rebuked by 
the veteran for his supposed intoxication. Here 
the negro had good grounds for feeling a sense 
of injustice. As a matter of fact, he had been 
painfully hurt, and what in his opinion at least 
was far worse, he really was not drunk. But 
Gumbo, who was far from being thin-skinned, 
took the roasting patiently. He secretly hoped 
it was going to be followed by a good, stiff drink 
offered in the form of medicine. In this he was 
disappointed. 

The negro, however, did get a peace offering. 
Two fine Havana cigars with gorgeous gilt bands 
were handed him and, to crown it all, a shining 
new silver dollar was pressed into his palm. 


128 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Sootlied in this fashion, Gumbo found it impos- 
sible to be disagreeable any longer. Then, under 
the kindly influence of one of the cigars, the ne- 
gro felt a disposition to talk. Uncle Ben by now 
had gone to bed, but Buck and the two lil pe- 
wees fum de city were still hanging about. 
They also felt chatty and were willing to meet 
the darky halfway. 

After very slight persuasion. Gumbo related 
the story of his adventure at the spring. Though 
repeatedly informed that no log or other piece 
of wood had been found at the place of the sup- 
posed assault, and that it was impossible for any- 
one to have been concealed in the shrubbery, the 
negro stuck stubbornly to his original account. 
Over and over he insisted the upsetting swat had 
come just as he stepped on the log to pick up 
the jug. ‘‘An’ ’twon’t no smooth plank what bus’ 
up agin me, neither,” he added, with great feel- 
ing. 

Seeing that the black man, though inclined to 
be talkative, intended to throw no more light on 
the strange atfair. Ham ventured into another 
field of conversation. “ Uncle Gummy,” he said. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 129 

folks tell us you know all about the Charles 
City dragon, and that ’twas you that let the 
thing out of a box. ’ ’ 

Yassir, I’se de one,’’ replied the darky com- 
placently. I let him out.” 

‘‘ What did he do then! ” eagerly inquired all 
the boys. 

Doan ax me, young gempmun. Wen dat dar 
draggum poke he head outer a lot ov pinetags 
and straw in de box an’ look me in de eye, I 
ain’t said nuffin to him ’less ’twas ‘ howdy-do ’ 
and ‘ good-bye ’ in one bref. Dis nigger jes’ drap 
he pipe outer he mouf an’ git He run like a 
skeered rabbit long as dar was eny ground to run 
on, an’ wen he cum up ’longside de water an’ 
hadter stop, he jes’ squat down dar in de cat- 
tails like an’ ole haar an’ stay dar till sunup.” 

Gosh bulldog! that was some running,” said 
Snag. You musta got away quick. Seems to 
me I’d a stayed long enough to risk one eye on 
the dragon.” 

‘‘Ain’t no question ’bout my runnin’. Mister 
Snag, an’ what I seen in one wink wuz satisfyin’ 
emuf fer me. Dat draggum, foh Gawd! was de 


130 The Boys* Big Game Series 

nglies ’-faced varmint I ever seen heahabouts. ” 
Hadn’t you been seeing skeery sights before 
this? ” inquired Buck. ‘‘ They tell me you’d 
been lappin’ up whiskey, and that after you’d 
been tight, you’d talk about meetin’ lizards and 
snakes and frogs and all sorts of creepin’ 
things.” 

“ I ain’t sayin’ I hadn’t had a drap uv bug- 
juice dat very momin’, an’ maybe sum lil nips 
befo’ dat day, but ’tain’t no use blamin’ de liquor 
fer de lizards. Why I seen dem wuz kase I’d 
been conjured. Ef dat thar draggum thing hadn ’t 
pop outer dat box an’ start me streakin’ I wuz 
gwine see a conjur doctor dat very night. 

Ham asked where all these wonderful things 
had occurred and Gumbo showed no hesitation in 
replying with great detail. He said that a 
wooden box, about eleven feet long, three feet 
wide and two feet deep, had been dumped off the 
Ariel as freight at the wharf near Dancing Point. 
It arrived about the last of May and was ad- 
dressed to Daniel Fentress, a planter, whose 
farm was on the Chickahominy about a mile from 
the shack where Uncle Ben was camping. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 131 

Mr. Fentress also received mucli other freight 
— chiefly boxed agricultural implements — by the 
same boat that day. His eleven-year-old son was 
at the landing with a team to do the hauling. 
Gumbo was there to assist the youngster. The 
two had a tiresome time of it for the freight had 
to be lifted into the wagon and was heavy. 
Neither the boy nor the negro, in their hurry, 
gave the long wooden box much attention beyond 
noticing that it had several auger holes in it, 
and that the lid bore the injunction, This Side 
Up With Care.’’ 

Several weeks earlier in the spring Mr. Fen- 
tress, who was planting an orchard, had received 
dozens of young fruit trees from a Richmond 
nursery. Most of these had come wrapped in 
gunny bagging but a few of the more valuable 
or more sensitive had been shipped in boxes 
much like that which Gumbo and the boy han- 
dled. What wonder, therefore, that the recep- 
tacle escaped their scrutiny. 

Mr. Fentress, however, was quick to observe it. 
After he had had all his freight dumped out in 
the wagon lot near the barn, he came across the 


132 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

box. He, too, thought it contained fruit trees, 
and was indignant that it had been delayed — as 
he thought — so long in shipping. Seeing Gumbo 
near at hand, he ordered him to have the box 
removed a short distance away and carefully 
opened from the top. Just then the dinner bell 
rang and all the white folks abandoned their 
work to eat. 

Left entirely alone a few minutes later Gumbo 
proceeded to tackle the box in accordance with 
orders. He had removed the entire lid and 
laid it crosswise over the box before he saw the 
dragon and the dragon saw him. Then came 
the darky ^s hurried flight. 

After much questioning — for here the negro 
appeared to grow cautious — the boys learned 
that the box from which the monster was alleged 
to have emerged had been damaged by fire. 
Gummy tried to make his audience believe the 
monster, immediately upon sighting him, spat 
flames. He was a picturesque old liar, this 
strange black, but here he stretched his bow a lit- 
tle bit too far even for the imaginations of Ham 
and Snag. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 133 

‘‘ Come off your percli, Uncle Gummy, and 
quit yer foolin’ us about the dragon spittin’ 
fire,” said Ham. “ You know perfectly well that 
if the box was burned, ’twas because you dropped 
your pipe among the pinetags and dry straw that 
were in it.” 

‘‘ Maybe ’twas my pipe what dun it,” admitted 
Gumbo, tho’ I sho’ dun seen dat draggum hawk 
up a whole lot uv flame an’ spit it at me. Mr. 
Fentress, when he come out pickin’ his toofes 
aftuh dinner, smell smoke. Den he streak down 
in de bam lot an’ make for de burnin’ box. Be- 
fo’ he could squench de flames, mos’ uv de wood 
wuz burnt an’ de top wuz dat charred up you 
couldn’t tell what had been writ on it. Praise 
Gawd, I won’t dar endurin’ uv all dis time. I 
tells yer wat dey tells me. Mr. Fentress he got 
so hoppin’ mad he mos’ spit fire hissef. Ex- 
cusin’ uv de fac’ dat by dat time I wuz a-squat- 
tin’ in de cattails, he’d-a cussed me black and 
blue.” 

‘^And where was the dragon ” breathlessly 
asked Ham, who was all excitement from the 
story. 


134 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

Bar won’t no draggum. He dim got up an’ 
git long ’f 0 ’ dat. It mought be dat de fire singed 
he whiskers. Anyhow, it must-a bin hot as fresh 
mustard on a sore shin in dat box wif dem pine- 
tags an’ dat straw a-burnin’.” 

What did the thing smell like? ” questioned 
Snag, who had a habit of using his nose in all 
investigations. 

“ Mister Snag,” solemnly replied Gumbo, 
dat draggum sho’ won’t no bouquet. Gimme 
a whole passel uv skunks in pref’runce to dat 
varmint. De draggum one minnit smell like 
strong musk an’ de next like sumpin daid. Won- 
der to me turkey buzzards ain’t got him by now.” 

Do you really think he’s still living? ” asked 
Ham. 

‘‘ He’s livin’ jes’ as sho’ as a gun’s iron,” 
answered Gumbo, in an awed tone, an’ what’s 
mo’, dat draggum ’s right down here in dese 
slashes pokin’ ’round fer vittles. I’se heam him 
uv nights.” 


CHAPTER XIV 

SOME FOOTPRINTS THAT HAD ’eM GUESSING 

Buck Timberlake had plenty of imagination and 
was more than ready to claim for Charles City 
anything that might add to the celebrity of that 
county. But he was unwilling to allow his native 
land the distinction of having a dragon on the 
unsupported statement of the black scalawag, 
Gumbo. 

Furthermore, he pooh-poohed the negro’s story 
concerning what had happened at the spring and 
attributed the yam entirely to drunkenness. He 
was a little puzzled, however, to observe that 
Gumbo showed none of the usual signs of intoxi- 
cation, and somehow told a remarkably straight 
tale about letting the monster out of the box. 

It was Buck’s firm conviction — and he was 
dreadfully strong in his convictions — that all 
the talk about the dragon was caused by a stur- 
geon. Yet granting that Gummy actually had 
135 




136 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

let something alive out of a box, it certainly 
could not have been a sturgeon, male or female. 
People do not ship the big fish, alive or dead, 
that way. Try as he might, the hard-headed 
country boy could not altogether dismiss this 
mysterious business from his mind. It stuck 
there like a burr. 

On the morning following the darky’s adven- 
ture at the spring. Ham proposed that all hands 
once more visit the scene to verify their conclu- 
sions of the night before and to gather such ad- 
ditional information as was possible. Things 
have a way of looking different in daylight,” in- 
sisted the fat boy, and I’ll bet you a penny 
whistle we get a clue.” 

So off they bolted — that is, everybody except 
Uncle Ben, who had to do some ‘‘ figurin’ ” in 
the shack. Gummy, it was plain, would much 
have preferred to remain behind, but he was 
dragged, willy nilly, into the excursion. The 
negro apparently expected to get another swat 
on reaching the spring, and he already had more 
than plenty. 

Gummy’s surprise was unmistakable when, on 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 137 

reaching the place of his recent discomfiture, he 
observed that nothing in any way like a log or a 
piece of wood was in sight. His attention also 
was directed to the fact that no thick shrubbery 
was near at hand. 

Contrary to expectations, the darky, noting 
this, readily admitted that he must have gone 
wrong the night before when he insisted that 
he had been assaulted by some person or per- 
sons hiding in the vegetation. 

Mos’ eny pusson am liabul ter git sumpin 
twis’ up wen he fust git ter talkin’ ’bout a ’spe- 
rience like dat whar happen las’ night,” said he. 
“ Gempmun, ’tain’t no use hidin’ it; I wuz 
skeered. But sunshine kin moughty nigh put 
spunk in a sick rabbit. Dis momin’ de sand dun 
come back in my craw, an’ I knows I wuz wrong 
’bout de bushes. Dar won’t no bushes an’ dar 
won’t no folks. ’Pears, too, like dar ain’t no lorg, 
but here’s de nigger whar got de lick. An’ here’s 
de sore spots whar sumpin bus’ into him. I 
don’t disrecollick ’bout dat. I knows. Now I 
axes yer kindly. Mister Buck and Mister Ham 
and Mister Snag, doan tell me ain’t nuthin’ hit 


138 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

me. Lemme keep sumthin ter show fer my 
mis ’ry. ’ ’ 

It really had begun to look as if the boys were 
about to prove Gumbo a liar in everything he 
said, when all of a sudden Ham yelled out, ‘‘ My 
stars, everybody run here quick! IVe discov- 
ered a footprint in the mud right by the spring. 
It certainly is curious looking.’’ 

Everybody ran, or rather everybody but Buck. 
He approached with scornful indifference. Gee, 
that boy was pig-headed! 

Yes, Ham was right. There was the distinct 
impression of five long toes on the soft earth. 
A moment later a second footprint of the same 
form and size was detected about ten inches 
from the first. Anybody could see that this be- 
longed on the other leg of the bird or animal. 

“ Keep on your shirts and don’t get excited, 
boys,” said Buck rather provokingly. ‘‘ This 
ain’t Robinson Crusoe’s island and we don’t have 
any cannibals down here in Charles City.” Then 
he approached nearer, took a look at the foot- 
prints and closed his mouth quite unexpectedly. 

‘‘ We ain’t saying they’re the footprints of 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 139 

cannibals/’ indignantly retorted Ham, but 
somethin’ made ’em. Now, Smarty, you tell us 
what did make ’em.” 

This question seemed to flabbergast Buck. He 
inched up closer, inspected the impressions in 
the mud, turned his head first to one side, then 
to another and bit his lips without at first ven- 
turing a reply. Then he said, “ Humph, some 
kind of big waterfowl, I reckon.” 

‘‘ What kind? Why don’t you say you don’t 
know? You’re just guessing. What makes you 
think it’s a waterfowl? You might jest as well 
say ’twas a turkey buzzard or that ham-footed 
old rooster of yours.” 

‘‘ I said ’twas a waterfowl because the prints 
kinder look like they were left by a web-footed 
bird,” replied Buck rather more humbly now. 

‘‘ Does any bird have five toes? ” demanded 
Ham of nobody in particular. 

Now strange to say, this question proved a 
knock-out for everyone. Neither Buck nor Snag, 
to save their lives, could even remember whether 
their own dearly-beloved roosters, Puddin’ and 
Billy Mahone, had four or five toes. Gumbo, ap- 


140 The Boys' Big Game Series 

pealed to as a last resort, showed equal igno- 
rance. ‘‘ I disrecollick, ’ ^ said he. ‘‘ ’Mongst 
niggers de bizness part uv a chicken is he laigs 
— not he feet.’’ 

Well, anyhow,” said Ham, whether birds 
and fowls have four toes or five, this what-do- 
yer-call-it must be a whopper. Maybe ’twas an 
ostrich that biffed Gumbo.” 

’Twas a powerful large fowl — no mistake 
about it — that left that track,” confessed Buck 
thoughtfully. 

Just then there came another yell — this time 
from Snag. ‘‘ Darn my hide if here ain’t some 
more tracks,” he cried, and the footprints show 
only four toes," 

Everybody rushed to Snag^s point of observa- 
tion and studied the new-found tracks. Yes, the 
boy was right. There were the additional foot- 
prints with the marks of but four toes. They 
were nearly five feet behind the others and about 
the same size and shape except for the difference 
\n the number of digits. 

This takes the rag off the bush,” grunted 
Ham, with immense satisfaction, for every min- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 141 

ute tlie mystery was deepening and lie did so love 
a mystery. ‘‘ Mr. Buck Timberlake,’^ lie cried, 
now is the time for you to distinguish your- 
self. What have we here? I ask to know. Are 
these footprints the marks of a five-toed water- 
fowl that sheds toes as it walks, or must we infer 
that there were two fowls — one with five toes 
and the other with four toes? 

I dunno,’’ replied Buck rather sullenly. ‘‘ I 
ain’t no com doctor that’s spent a lifetime study- 
ing toes and feet. But I’m certain of this: there 
ain’t no law in Charles City forbiddin’ a five-toed 
bird, big or little, from takin’ a drink at a spring 
with a four-toed bird.” 

‘ ‘ Beckon the whole layout was made by a big 
cow sturgeon that came out of the water to 
graze,” sarcastically said Snag, who couldn’t re- 
sist taking a dig at the country boy. Guess 
we’ll be milkin’ the old cow soon; or does she 
lay eggs like a waterfowl? ” 

You won’t be milkin’ her if you and Ham act 
like you did when we seen her last night,” with- 
eringly retorted Buck. Then, wishing to keep 
from starting a quarrel, he changed his tone and 


142 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

said, I got a scheme. Why not let Nigger smell 
them tracks and trail the critter — birds, I mean 
— like a setter following partridges? 

Nobody had thought of this. It was a capital 
plan. There was only one trouble about the sug- 
gestion. Nigger was not a bird dog and didn’t 
pretend to be. He never bragged about the feats 
of his nose. Beyond using it for an occasional 
sniff at other dogs, or for following Ham and 
Snag, he hardly knew he had such an organ. 

Nevertheless when led up to the footprints, the 
Newfoundland did condescend to take a smell at 
them. Then he decided that the whole affair was 
some sort of a joke and started to romp. To 
his surprise he suddenly found himself grabbed 
by all three boys and dragged to a second set of 
footprints. Worse still, his moist black nose was 
actually jammed down into these. 

By force of such treatment Nigger was brought 
to realize that something serious was expected 
of him. Gradually it soaked into his head that 
his friends were asking him to follow a trail. 
Hence he gave a friendly little sniff and a cough, 
stirred up a tiny cloud of dust with his nose and 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 143 

got right down to his new line of business. Nor 
did it seem to come hard to him. 

The spring was not more than fifty yards from 
a small arm of the Chickahominy, which, as has 
been explained, empties its waters into the James 
at Dancing Point. Towards this arm of the 
Chickahominy Nigger, nose to the ground and 
tail straight out like a bird dog, was pretty soon 
moving at a good gait. Now and then he would 
pause and give an exultant sniff as if very proud 
of his new accomplishment. 

After the Newfoundland had gone about thirty 
feet more footprints were discovered and. Oh, 
joy! it could be seen that the five-toed tracks 
alternated regularly with the four-toed tracks. 

Again and again the trail would be lost in the 
canebrakes and marsh grasses, to be found once 
more by Nigger, and always there was the same 
alternation of five and four toed impressions. 
Finally the footprints disappeared at the water. 

‘‘A blind man could see that these tracks were 
left by some four-footed animal and not by a 
bird,’^ declared Ham. Even a stubborn mule 
like Buck will admit that.’’ 


144 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

‘‘ I ain’t admittin’ nothin’,” growled Buck, 
‘‘ except that I was mighty nigh right in the be- 
ginning. The critter, whatever it is, belongs in 
the water jest as I said.” 

“ Still harpin’ about that old cow sturgeon,” 
wrathfully exclaimed Ham. ‘‘ Well, let him call 
it a sturgeon if ’twill ease his mind, but I’ve got 
another name for the thing. It’s the dragon of 
Dancin’ Point, and it’s got five toes on its front 
legs and four on its back legs.” 


CHAPTEE XV 

WHAT BECAME OF THOSE FLOEEDA TUBTLES? 

‘‘I’m daggone sick and tired of kearin’ you 
two chew the rag about them footprints. There 
ain’t been nuthin’ else for two days.” 

The peevish individual who spouted this re- 
mark was Snag Perkins. He had good grounds 
for complaint, too. Ever since Ham and Buck 
had seen the tracks at the spring, they had talked 
of nothing else. Snag also had felt some interest 
at first, but soon got fed up on idle speculations. 

“ Enough of a thing is enough,” said he, “ and 
I ain’t no hog. I know when I’ve got enough. I 
wouldn’t give one good rooster fight for all this 
here imitation detective business and snijfin’ 
around with dorgs. Let’s eat. Here comes Gum- 
my with the grub.” 

But neither the boys nor Uncle Ben were to 
eat just then. Even as they inhaled the odor of 
the food, a stupendous crash, accompanied by a 
145 


146 The Boys’ Big Gome Series 

terrific rattling of tin plates, fell upon their ears. 
Gumbo had dropped the waiter containing part 
of the meal and gone dashing out of the back 
door like a streak of greased lightning. 

Simultaneously another door had opened and 
a huge, red-faced man, carrying a shotgun, had 
entered. 

Well, if here ain’t old Dan Fentress,” ex- 
claimed Uncle Ben, apparently oblivious of what 
had happened to his dinner. “ Hand us your 
paw, Dan, and gimme a chew of tobacco. Left 
mine in an ole coat bangin’ down on the fence.” 

Mr. Fentress grinned, produced his plug of 
mild hurley, said howdy-do to everybody present 
and hurled his mighty bulk into a chair. He was 
far from being the ferocious person he looked. 

‘‘ Ben,” said he, ‘‘ we’ll talk business a little 
later after sittin’ around some and chawin’. Did 
you see that durn Gumbo dart off when he sight- 
ed me? He thinks I’m going to kill him; and I 
ought to. Reckon he imagined his time had come 
when he glimpsed this gun that I generally tote 
around to shoot crows with.” 

What you got against Gumbo, Dan? ” asked 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 147 

the veteran. He^s a pretty good sort of darky 
when he lets whiskey alone, though he ain’t goin’ 
to kill himself working.” 

“ Oh, you ought to know the story,” said Mr. 
Fentress. If you don’t you’re the only man 
in Charles City who hasn’t heard it. The dod- 
blasted scoundrel burnt up some freight of mine 
by dropping his nasty stinking old pipe in a pile 
of dry packing. Might have set everything on 
my place afire. But instead of stoppin’ to help 
when the blaze started, he lit out and took to 
the high grass.” 

It would have done anybody good to look at 
Ham and Buck as they heard this. Their eyes 
fairly danced with delight. Even Snag sat up 
and took notice, despite his contempt for ama- 
teur detective work. Here at last was the one 
man who knew more than anybody else about the 
Charles City dragon — yes, actually the man to 
whom the box containing the monster had been 
sent. 

Please, please tell us the story, Mr. Fen- 
tress,” pleaded Ham. We’ve heard so much of 
that box and the dragon that popped out of it.” 


148 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

‘^Dragon! did you say? repeated the big 
man; and be went into convulsions of laughter. 
“ I swear somebody ought to hang that lying 
Gumbo. So he told you ’twas a dragon, did he 
— the durned rascal ! ’ ^ 

“ Yassir, he said ’twas a dragon,’^ replied 
Ham humbly, for out of the corner of his eye 
he could see Buck and Snag grinning. 

‘‘ Well, sir, if that ain’t enough to make a dog 
strike his father,” chortled Mr. Fentress. ‘‘A 
dragon — just think of it, a dragon! ” 

Here it looked as if Mr. Fentress were abo"'*^ 
to throw a conniption fit. He shook so with 
mirth that he almost fell out of his clothes. 

Poor Ham! For his part he nearly shrank up 
with shame. Every time he tried to open his 
mouth to speak, the man would begin to roar and 
bawl out, dragon, did you say? ” Can you 
beat that? ” Of all the liars! ” To think that 
Gumbo’s been tellin’ people a tale like that.” 

But finally Mr. Fentress wore himself out with 
his own sense of humor and began to talk like 
a normal human being. Boys,” he said, I’m 
sorry to disappoint you. It’s a pity Gumbo’s 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 149 

yam ain’t the tmth. It ought to be preserved 
in alcohol. But much as I hate to do it, I’m 
hound to say I don’t think there was any dragon. 
When I got hack to the barn lot the box, as well 
as its lid and contents, had been nearly con- 
sumed. All I could make out were the words: 
‘‘ This Side Up With Care ” on the top. The 
box had been partly filled with a dry straw bed- 
ding which burned rapidly. At first I thought it 
contained fruit trees but in this I was plainly 
wrong.” 

‘‘ What did it contain? ” abmptly asked Snag, 
who thought the story was going too slow. 

“ That’s what puzzled me, and in a way still 
puzzles me,” replied Mr. Fentress. The next 
day I drove down to the landing and asked the 
freight agent. There’s where I got another jolt. 
He spoke right up and said, ^ I can tell you in a 
minute. That box was expressed from Florida 
— made a quick trip, too — and when I received 
it, ’twas marked : ‘ LIVE TURTLES ; HANDLE 
WITH CARE.’ ” 

At this information all three boys seemed to 
shrivel up like punctured toy balloons. Not a 


150 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

one of them had the gumption to think about 
turtles while seeking to solve the problem of the 
footprints. Worse still, each knew he ought to 
have thought about them, for turtles, big and 
little, were no unfamiliar sight to any of the 
three. 

‘‘ Why in the name of high heaven,’’ continued 
Mr. Fentress, not noting the effect of his remarks 
upon the boys, ‘‘ anybody should let loose and 
send me a box of live turtles from Florida I 
don’t see. So far as I can remember, I don’t 
know a soul in Florida. And I can get all the 
turtles I want right here in these waters. I’ve 
received no explanation, whatsoever. 

‘‘Another thing also has got me guessing. 
Where are the turtles that were in the box? 
There wasn’t a sign of them, dead or alive, when 
I reached the scene. Now you all know that tur- 
tles ain’t much for speed. How they could have 
climbed out of that box and made off I don’t see. 
On the other hand. Gummy couldn’t have stolen 
them — leastwise not all of them. Yet if they 
didn’t make off and if Gummy didn’t steal ’em, 
they ought to have been burned alive. But the 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 151 

funny part about it all is that I haven’t seen so 
much as a sign of roast turtle — shell or any- 
thing — yet you could bet your last dollar that a 
big turtle wouldn’t be entirely consumed by fire 
in less than an hour. Now, gentlemen, what do 
you think of my story? ” 

‘‘ I think,” solemnly replied Uncle Ben, with 
a twinkle in his eye, “ that you’re a bigger liar 
than Gumbo. You can give him cards and spades 
and beat him at his own game. But here’s the 
darky himself. We’ll have a lying match right 
here on the spot.” 

Gumbo, through some sort of deadly fascina- 
tion which makes all of us court dangers we fear, 
had slunk back into the room while Mr. Fentress 
told of the turtles. Perhaps he had been shrewd 
enough to conclude from the farmer’s uproarious 
laughter that nothing was to be feared from 
him. At any rate, there he was with a concil- 
iatory grin on his face. 

Of course Mr. Fentress, in his good-natured 
way, at first threatened to murder the negro on 
the spot and even pretended to reach for his gun. 
But after a little funning of this sort, he ordered 


152 The Boys* Big Game Series 

the darky to give an exact account of his adven- 
ture with the box. 

Though told about the turtles and urged to 
stick to the truth, Gumbo stoutly held his origi- 
nal ground. Nothing could shake him in his con- 
tention that he had let loose a draggum.” 
The interview, therefore, resulted only in mak- 
ing things far more tangled than they were 
before. 

‘‘ That darky will lie ’till doomsday,” said 
Buck a little later when Uncle Ben and Mr. Fen- 
tress had retired to talk over some timber. 

By the way, how many toes has a turtle? ” 
asked Ham. 

Nobody answered. 


CHAPTER XVI 

BLOOD FLOWS ON OHICKAHOMIN Y SHOKES 

Did you know that some dogs, when in a suffi- 
ciently good humor, can smile? Of course the 
snub-nosed kind with drooping chops like pugs 
and hulls and Boston terriers can’t, hut take a 
long-faced pup like Nigger and watch him when 
everything is going well. He’s mighty apt to be 
caught grinning. Anyhow, Ham Willingham’s 
Newfoundland was smiling on the bright July 
morning of which we write. i 

It was some days after the visit of Dan Fen- 
tress, when everybody’s pet theories about the 
dragon had been knocked skyhigh by the story 
concerning the turtles. The fields and swamps 
were shimmering with the heat, for Charles City 
was suffering from a long dry spell. Gumbo, 
who was full of superstitions about the signs of 
nature, had just killed a five-foot black snake 
and hung it on the fence. He said this would 
153 


154 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

bring on rain. Inasmuch as snakes often come 
out of their hiding places just before showers, 
the negro may not have been altogether wrong in 
his attempt to fix the weather. 

But it didn’t make any difference to the boys 
whether it rained or shone. They were off for a 
lark in the open. All they wanted to do was to 
mosey and lazy around. If it grew unbearably 
hot they could take to the water, for their path 
wound in and out among the many little tribu- 
taries of the Chickahominy. 

Somewhere in this region, nearly three hun- 
dred years before, the Indians under King Pow- 
hatan had captured another adventurer. Captain 
John Smith, and it would have gone hard with 
that investigative gentleman but for a certain 
lovely Indian maiden. Ham and Snag, however, 
were not bothering about this historic incident — 
possibly they didn’t even remember it — though 
Buck, the Charles City booster, knew aU about 
the affair. 

After the trio of youngsters had gone about 
half a mile and had paused at least ten times to 
witness Snag’s exploits with his gravel-shooter, 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 155 

a halt was made under a swamp oak. Nigger 
glanced up inquiringly at his master with a sort 
of what-next look on his face. Then he gave a 
short bark and loped off towards the water, some 
fifty feet away. Nobody followed. The dog 
repeated the performance, with the same results. 
Then, as if disappointed, the Newfoundland be- 
gan to bark loudly. 

What’s that pup growlin’ about! ” asked 
Snag. 

He ain’t growlin’,” indignantly retorted 
Ham, who resented any remark implying that 
Nigger, under any stress, could lose his temper. 
‘‘ He’s simply askin’ us to take a swim with 
him.” 

‘‘ Nuthin’ doin’,” said Snag. ‘‘ Dorg or no 
dorg, I ain’t goin’ to git in that river and have 
my hide blistered by the sun. We’d be peelin’ 
like onions tomorrow.” 

‘‘ Eight you are,” replied Buck. 

As a result of this turn-down, which he seemed 
thoroughly to understand, the Newfoundland 
trotted off alone for his bath. With a joyous 
plunge he struck out towards midstream. Once 


156 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

or twice he looked back with that same contented 
smile on his face, and seemed to say, ‘‘ Come in, 
boys, the water’s fine.” Then, receiving no re- 
sponse, he went ahead with a reproachful splash. 

He sure can swim,” proudly said Ham; ‘‘ I 
don’t believe nuthin’ could drownd that dog.” 

Hardly were these words out of his mouth 
when Nigger was seen to wheel suddenly around 
and start shoreward at a speed that was aston- 
ishing. 

Look at him now! ” cried Ham. “ Ain’t he 
wonderful? B’lieve he heard my compliment 
and is coming back to thank me.” 

Far from it. At that instant Nigger gave a 
dismal howl which bore a horrifying message of 
agony and terror. Then the waters gurgled over 
his head and he went under. 

Lord have mercy on us,” screamed Ham, in 
genuine fright; ‘‘sumthin’s gone wrong. Nig- 
ger’s drowndin’ and is callin’ for help.” 

With that he dashed down towards the water 
with his two companions behind him. Before 
they had gone half way they saw the dog rise 
some ten feet out of the straight course and 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 157 

again make for shore. Now he was desperately 
swimming in a sort of zig-zag fashion which 
showed the animal had almost every muscle of 
his body in full play. 

<< We’re cornin’. Don’t lose yer grit, Nigger. 
We’re cornin’,” shrieked Ham, as he plunged 
wildly into the river without a second’s hesita- 
tion. 

Buck and Snag, not at all knowing what they 
were saying, bawled equally as loudly and 
plunged "with the same disregard of danger into 
the water. 

Thirty feet from the shore Ham and Nigger 
met, that is to say, the Newfoundland was then 
within arm’s reach of his master. The boy let 
down ” to ascertain the depth of the water. It 
came only to his shoulders, so he thrust out a 
hand and grabbed Nigger. 

To his assistance pantingly swam Buck and 
Snag. The three, despite their wet clothing, 
the muddy bottom beneath their feet and the 
weight of the animal, soon had the Newfound- 
land on dry land. 

Then they saw a sight which sickened their 


158 


The Boys* Big Game Series 

very souls and sent Ham keeling over in a dead 
faint. The dog’s left hind foot had been lacer- 
ated beyond description and shreds of raw flesh 
were hanging from the upper part of the leg. 
To add to the confusion, blood was spurting in 
torrents. 

At first it looked as if all was over with Nig- 
ger. He lay motionless where the boys had 
placed him, still breathing hard from his tre- 
mendous exertions but too feeble to move head 
or limbs. What could be done? It was a try- 
ing situation. There lay Ham all knocked out, 
and by him the fearfully mutilated dog whose 
sufferings would have touched a heart of stone, 
although he gave no whine of complaint. 

Fortunately Buck and Snag were boys who 
knew how to face situations. Buck immediately 
began some first-aid work on Nigger, and Snag 
was equally as quick to throw cold water in the 
face of Ham. 

That youngster, be it said, was not slow to 
revive. Too much was happening for him to 
stay long out of the game. Though pale as a 
ghost and dreadfully sick in his stomach, he 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 159 

insisted on struggling to his feet and going to 
the side of his dog. 

Don’t die, Nigger; please don’t die,” he 
pleaded. ‘‘If you live I’ll git you a tag the first 
day I hit Eichmond, even if I have to starve to 
do it.” 

Flop. Flop. Flop. There came a faint sound 
from the earth near Ham’s feet. It was Nig- 
ger’s bushy tail, now smeared with blood. He 
was doing the best he could to express gratitude 
and appreciation — affectionate and loving to 
the last. But the wagging soon ceased alto- 
gether, and the animal, with a little sigh, relaxed 
and lay perfectly motionless. 

Ham began to weep as though his heart were 
breaking. Now he didn’t care who saw him 
blubbering — in fact he tried to make as much 
noise as possible. He really wanted to howl. 

“ Quit it,” said Snag, awfully uncomfortable 
and trying to pretend that he was very stern. 
“ Quit it, I say. He wasn’t nuthin’ but a ani- 
mal, nohow. If there’s a dog heaven you can 
bet yer life he’s trottin’ down its golden streets 
this very minute.” 


160 The Boys’ Big Game Series 

But he ain^t dead yet,’^ interrupted Buck, 
who strove to talk positively like a regular doc- 
tor, and who, at heart, was quite proud of the 
first-aid work he had done. IVe seen a lot of 
dorgs git all chawed up, but I don’t count none 
of ’em really dead till I see ’em actually made 
up into sausage. ’ ’ 

This comforting assurance didn’t seem to help 
Ham much, but it gave Snag an idea. What 
bit him? ” asked the owner of the silver duck- 
wing in his usual brusque way. 

Nobody could say, but now that the excite- 
ment was partly over, all the boys had a faint 
recollection of having seen something poke up 
out of the ^ater just as Nigger turned towards 
the shore. Snag also was of the opinion that he 
had observed part of a big fish. He even went 
so far as to insist that when Ham and his com- 
panions jumped into the water, this fish — or 
‘‘ feesh,” as he called it — was pursuing the dog 
but immediately turned off and darted in another 
direction. 

Maybe ’twas a shark, or more likely, a big 
turtle,” ventured Ham, though I can’t help 


'^he Lady Dragon of Dancing Faint 161 

thinkin’ ’twas the Charles City dragon. If it 
wasn’t for the fact that Nigger got bit in the 
water, I’d know ’twas the dragon.” 

‘‘ I’ll bet good money ’twas a sturgeon,” 
piped Buck, though he spoke rather feebly. 

There it is again — that old cow sturgeon,” 
stormed Snag. “We’ll never hear the end of 
her. If we were to lead Buck up to a circus 
cage containin’ a lion and he heard the animal 
roar, he’d still swear ’twas a sturgeon. Over 
and over again he’s told us that these feesh 
ain ’t got any teeth, and now when he sees a dorg 
all torn to ribbons, he flops right over and says 
a sturgeon nipped him.” 

The same old argument, perhaps, would have 
been continued indefinitely had not Buck adroitly 
changed the subject by suggesting that the boys 
make a litter on which to carry Nigger back to 
the shack. Everybody was willing to lend a 
hand to this work, and two hours later the dog, 
still helpless, was lying motionless and barely 
alive on a comfortable bed of straw in an out- 
house. 

Ham had another spell of weeping when the 


162 


The Boys’ Big Game Senes 

morning’s experiences were related to Uncle 
Ben. The old soldier, however, was gentle and 
comforting as only he knew how to be. He ad- 
mitted that he was entirely at a loss to know 
what had attacked Nigger. 

You mustn’t give way too much. Ham,” he 
said, ‘‘ though I ain’t sayin’ that a little cryin’ 
ain’t good for all of us now and then. But 
remember, boy, you’re the son of a gallant sol- 
dier, and it doesn’t do to show too much weak- 
ness. I’ve seen far worse sights than what you 
saw today. I’ve seen hundreds of men so man- 
gled on the field of battle that you could hardly 
tell they were human beings. There ain’t much 
chance for your dog. I might as well tell you 
that at the start, but we’ll get a veterinarian 
and do what can be done for him. 

‘‘ It’s as plain as your nose on your face that 
even if Nigger don’t kick the bucket, he’s got to 
lose part of that injured leg. Most likely it’ll 
have to be sawed o:ff at the first joint. But what 
of it? Even after that he’ll have two more legs 
than I’ve got; and besides, the vet can give him 
chloroform for the operation. When that Con- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 163 

federate sawbones trimmed me up, I didn^t even 
get a smell of chloroform, so even today I could 
write a whole book on sufferin’.^’ 

The kindly old soldier beamed cheerily on the 
boy, who soon dried his tears. 


CHAPTER XVn 

COMFOKT FOUND IN A BLACK FOOT 

It was nearly a week before Nigger showed 
any signs which indicated that he did not intend 
to go to dog heaven that summer, and Oh! the 
changes that took place in that distressing in- 
terval. 

The maimed Newfoundland, as soon as pos- 
sible, was taken back by boat to Heron’s Nest, 
where he received the attentions of a veterina- 
rian. This man of science confirmed Uncle Ben’s 
prediction that ‘‘ a little surgery ” would be 
necessary. 

One bright morning when all the world seemed 
gay. Uncle Ben winked significantly at Snag 
while the family sat at breakfast. Snag, in rec- 
ognition of this signal, solemnly returned the 
wink. Nobody else saw this by-play, nor did 
anyone save the peg-leg veteran notice that im- 
mediately after the meal. Snag literally dragged 
164 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 165 

Ham off for a walk to the steamboat landing. 

This expedition consumed three hours, for Jef- 
ferson Davis Perkins stopped almost every one 
hundred feet to take a shot at something or other 
with his gravel-shooter. Upon their return Uncle 
Ben met the youngsters at the gate with a serious 
look on his face. 

Ham at once became suspicious. All that 
morning he had noticed how queerly Snag had 
been acting. ‘‘ What’s up? ” he anxiously in- 
quired. I know you’re keepin’ sumthin’ from 
me.” 

Nothing wrong; nothing wrong at all,” re- 
plied Uncle Ben with a noticeable gulp in his 
throat. ‘‘I’ve just come to tell you that Nig- 
ger’s a lot better, but — er, he mustn’t be dis- 
turbed just now. It’s this-a-way: Nigger ad- 
mired my wooden leg so much that he decided to 
have one for himself. The vet. cut off his paw 
while you two were gone. He’s doin’ fine — that 
dog. But gosh! it took a lot of chloroform to 
put him out of business. He kept, waggin’ his 
tail all the time up to the very minute he dropped 
off to sleep.” 


166 The Boys* Big Game Series 

^^And you knew this was goin’ on and didn’t 
tell mel ” screamed Ham, as he turned on Snag 
in a fury. 

“ ’Twas yer Uncle Ben that put me up to 
leadin’ yer off,” said Snag. ‘‘ Both of us 
thought ’twould be a heap better for you not to 
be on hand durin’ the cuttin’, though I’d like 
to have seen it. Nigger’s doin’ fine and he’s still 
got three legs left. Seems to me you oughter 
be mighty proud of that pup. Any boy can have 
a four-legged dorg, but it’s blessed few of ’em 
that can show a three-legged dorg, or one with 
a wooden leg.” 

“ I hadn’t thought of that. Snag,” said Ham, 
much consoled, ‘‘ and I reckon I did speak ugly 
to you just now. But somehow I felt that Nig- 
ger would think hard of me for not sticking by 
him when he was in trouble.” 

Think hard of you nuthin’ — not that dog. 
You’re the sentimentalest thing I ever seen. You 
oughter be a gal.” 

Snag got in a powerful stroke that time. He 
had said the one thing best calculated to make 
Ham hold back his tears. Not wishing to be 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 167 

cruel, however, the owner of Billy Mahone added, 

’Tis hard, I know, hut this ain’t no time to be 
gittin’ cold feet. There’s a lot we gotta do. If 
that dorg had died I’d made up my mind to let 
you go in partners with me on my silver duck- 
wing, but ’tain’t necessary now. What we gotta 
do is to git a preserve jar, fill it full of alcohol 
and put ole Nigger’s paw in it — the one that’s 
been sawed off. You’ll want to keep that always. 
Reckon your Ma will ask you to let her set it on 
the mantel-piece in the parlor along with them 
shells and that vase full of dried grasses. The 
Doc. promised beforehand that he’d save the 
paw for us.” 

Here again Ham found immense consolation. 
He had never once thought of preserving that 
mangled black paw until Snag’s fertile brain 
suggested it. The thing would be a treasure. 
Other boys would pay money to see it. Then, 
too, as has been said, there wasn’t another boy 
in Richmond, or Charles City, either, for that 
matter, who had a three-legged Newfoundland. 
Better still was the baffling mystery surrounding 
the dog’s misfortune. Scores of other urchins. 


168 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

like Snag, would ask What bit bim?’’ and 
then would come an opportunity to tell all about 
the marvelous things that were happening in 
that time-honored county. 

It will thus be seen that when it came to offer- 
ing consolation of the genuinely helpful sort, 
Mr. Jefferson Davis Perkins, though not always 
given to pretty speeches, took the championship 
belt of the world. 

Just what good old Nigger might have thought 
of all this nobody can guess. There’s reason to 
believe, however, that he was enough of a sport 
to have approved of everything Snag suggested. 
The dog had true Newfoundland courage. 

Late that afternoon Ham and his comforter 
were allowed to pay a visit to the dog. The ani- 
mal rested comfortably on a bed of straw in one 
of the stalls of the Heron’s Nest stables, and 
though pitifully emaciated and feeble, was happy 
to see his friends. All bandaged up as he was, 
he couldn’t do much fancy tail-wagging, but he 
nevertheless showed many signs of appreciation. 
When Ham laid his tear-stained face up against 
that of the dog. Nigger was only too glad to lick 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 169 

it, dirt and all, to show that he intended to be 
game to the last. 

Of course Nigger finally got well. He was too 
decent a dog to die and mess up a nice summer 
with a tragedy like that. But although he may 
have admired Uncle Ben’s wooden limb, he 
showed no disposition to drag around with a peg 
leg himself. Snag and Ham tried in vain to 
make him wear the section of hickory axe-helve 
which they had fashioned into an artificial leg, 
but there was nothing doing. Nigger kicked out 
of traces at this scheme. Furthermore he showed 
the world that a dog, by the exercise of a little 
ingenuity, can hop around pretty lively on three 
limbs. 

But all this is going ahead of our story, just 
as it is when we reveal that it yet remains to be 
shown how the Newfoundland’s injury, indirectly 
at least, was the means of saving certain people 
hundreds of dollars. Let us stick to the present; 
that is to say, let us accompany Ham and Snag 
after they left Nigger following that first visit 
of sympathy. 


170 The Boys’ Big Game Series 

Straightway they went to a certain comer of 
the stable, where they found something black all 
wrapped in linen and smelling of antiseptics. It 
was Nigger ^s amputated paw. With this safely 
deposited in Snag’s pocket, they proceeded to the 
pantry of the manor house, where they encoun- 
tered Cousins Millie and Betty Lou. Of these 
good spinsters they demanded an empty preserve 
jar. The ladies reported that no jars were avail- 
able, since all were filled with jam of one sort or 
the other. 

“ So much the better,” said Ham, ‘‘ we can 
get the jar empty by eatin’ what’s in it”; and 
this is what they did. 

Then, last of all. Nigger’s friends, armed with 
the empty jar and the amputated paw, proceeded 
to the cellar. There they unearthed a huge, 
wicker-covered bottle known in Virginia as a 
‘‘ demijohn.” From this they procured an alco- 
holic fluid of an amber tint. Cousins Millie and 
Betty Lou knew nothing of the existence of this 
big bottle. But Uncle Ben did. It contained 
corn whiskey. The veteran said he occasionally 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 171 

drank it for his health, which must have been 
bad, since the demijohn held a gallon. 

Thus it was that Nigger ^s foot came to be pre- 
served even unto this day, a treasure to be ex- 
hibited to admiring friends. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


SECKETS OVERHEARD IN THE STABLE 

Was there ever a boy who didn’t like to hang 
abont a stable? Ham and Snag certainly were 
not exceptions to this general rule. Indeed, they 
felt far more comfortable under the roof which 
sheltered the horses and mules of Heron’s Nest 
plantation than they did in the presence of Cou- 
sins Millie and Betty Lou, who often picked on 
them when they failed to observe the rules of 
cleanliness. Then, too. Uncle Ben, always the 
most entertaining of companions, used to hang 
about the stable a good deal himself. He kept 
there a thoroughbred colt which he loved almost 
as Ham loved his dog or Snag loved his rooster. 

During Nigger’s somewhat tedious convales- 
cence (it took him nearly three weeks to get 
back on his remaining three feet) Ham fre- 
quented the stable more than ever. 

One morning when everything seemed to be 
172 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 173 

going particularly well with the animal, Ham 
stretched himself out beside the dog for a good, 
quiet think. Soon, in spite of everything he could 
do, the boy began to feel drowsy. Snag was off 
somewhere with his gravel-shooter and the place 
was unusually quiet. Stupefied by the warm air 
and soothed by the smell of the hay, the young- 
ster drowsed off before he knew what was hap- 
pening and so did Nigger. 

The two must have slept half an hour when 
the door opened and Uncle Ben walked in with a 
stranger. Ham and the dog awoke at the inter- 
ruption, but each felt too lazy to stir, nor did the 
boy think it necessary even to make his presence 
known. 

‘HUs hot outside,’’ said Uncle Ben to his com- 
panion, ‘‘ and this is as good a place as any for 
a talk, though I don’t want to seem discourteous. 
Would you rather go to the house? ” 

‘‘We’re all right as we are,” replied the 
stranger. “ Couldn’t be in a better place, to tell 
the truth, for I’d prefer not to be interrupted.” 

“ Go ahead, then,” said the veteran rather 
shortly. “As I take it, John Teaford, this is a 


174 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

case where you’re to do the talkin’ and I the lis- 
tenin’. You know what I think of you.’^ 

Yes, I know what you think of me,” said the 
person addressed as Teaford, ‘‘ and I’m sorry 
your opinion is no better, hut I rather imagine 
you’ll be interested in my remarks. I’ve come 
here to tell you about Gideon Morganfield.” 

‘‘ That infernal scoundrel! ” exclaimed Uncle 
Ben, losing control of himself and speaking in 
a tone Ham never had heard him use before. 
‘‘ Well, don’t attempt to say anything good of 
him to me.” 

Never fear,” replied Teaford. You used 
the right word when you said ‘ scoundrel. ’ They 
tell us birds of a feather flock together. I admit 
that I’ve wasted a good part of my life hanging 
around Gid Morganfield. But all that’s over and 
done with now. Going down to Norfolk on the 
Ariel June 21 with that crook, we two got to 
drinking and nearly came to blows. In fact, if 
I’d a had my way there would have been a fight 
but outside parties interfered.” 

These words had scarcely reached Ham’s ears 
before he realized, all in a flash, that this John 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 175 

Teaford, talking to Uncle Ben, was the same in- 
dividual who had quarreled with the bow-legged 
person he called a resurrectionist.” Then a 
terrifying thought flew into Ham’s mind. Per- 
haps Teaford was a detective. Maybe he had 
come to arrest Snag and himself for their con- 
nection with the grave robbery. Evidently the 
fellow had a way of finding out everything. 
Hadn’t he threatened to expose the bow-legged 
man and shown that he knew all about that ras- 
cal’s doings? Now he would tell Uncle Ben about 
the bloody handkerchief and the keyhole saw. 
Small wonder that Ham immediately resolved to 
lay low and keep his presence unknown. 

No matter about the fuss you had,” abruptly 
said the veteran. Get right down to brass 
tacks and tell me what you’re here for.” 

‘‘Now don’t be too rough on me. Captain,” 
whined Teaford. “ Everybody wants to kick a 
down dog. I ’m trying to get up so I can live de^ 
cently. You ain’t helping to make it easy. I’m 
not after money. I want to get something off 
my conscience. It’s about that affair of Major 
Hamilton Willingham’s — those lost bonds.” 


176 The Boys' Big Game Series 

Major Hamilton Willingham was Ham’s dead 
father. Though a distinguished soldier and an 
able lawyer in his day, people said he had died 
under a cloud, though the son, fortunately, had 
been shielded from these ugly reports. 

Go ahead, Teaford,” said Uncle Ben, just a 
trifle less harshly. ‘ ‘ I want to be fair, and after 
all, most of your vile deeds were probably done 
under the influence of Gid Morganfield. If you 
really intend to walk straight now. I’ll he the 
last man in the world to block your way.” 

Captain,” replied Teaford, as I’ve said, 
Gid and I have fallen out. He’s played me some 
dirty tricks recently. I could ruin him if I told 
al] I knew. Guess he could hurt me, too, if he 
told all he knew. In any event, I don’t intend to 
do any blabbing. Here’s all I’ve got to say — I 
believe Gid Morganfield has got those bonds 
which people think Major Willingham made 
away with. You couldn’t prove it and I couldn’t 
prove it, but I’ve heard and seen enough to know 
I’m right about this.” 

I know you’re right about it, too,” said 
Uncle Ben, and I’ve known it for years, but 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 177 

that doesn’t help a bit in a court of law.” 

‘‘It’s a shame for the memory of a man like 
Major Willingham to have a stain on it,” con- 
tinued Teaford, “ and it’s an outrage for a fine 
woman like his widow to suffer as she has done 
and to have to struggle so hard to make both 
ends meet. Honest, I want to help set this busi- 
ness straight.” 

“ How do you propose to do it.” 

“ That’s what worries me. It isn’t easy. I 
don’t intend to turn state’s evidence even on a 
man like Gideon Morganfield, though we’re quits 
forever. The good turns he once did me will 
keep my mouth shut. But I came here to say 
this: You’re to receive a visit from him shortly. 
Morganfield is going to tell you he believes he 
can recover those bonds if you pay him two 
thousand dollars. Of course, he’s going to pre- 
tend some other fellow has them, and that he 
isn’t actually certain he can land them under any 
circumstances. But as a matter of fact, he can. 
I’ll he fair enough to say, too, that if you give 
him the amount mentioned, he’s more than likely 
to produce the securities. You can trust him to 


178 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

tliat extent since he’s afraid to attempt selling 
the bonds.” 

‘‘ In other words,” interrupted Uncle Ben, 

he’s to come to me with a sort of blackmail- 
ing proposition. If he does I’ll break his neck.” 

Call it what you want, but keep your head. 
Captain,” replied Teaford. ‘‘ My advice is that 
you see Morganfield and listen to what he says. 
Here’s my suggestion: The man’s as crooked as 
a ram’s horn, in addition to being a professional 
gambler. I give you this tip. Get the police to 
hunt up his record, or lots better still, employ a 
detective. Then when he appears, confront him 
with his crimes, put up a stiff bluff and tell him 
that unless he produces the bonds, without a 
penny of compensation, you’ll have him slammed 
into jail.” 

‘‘A nice sort of business, that,” sneered Uncle 
Ben. ‘‘I’m no detective to go around huntin’ 
up things on people. Neither would I keep quiet 
about a man’s crimes to force him to do some- 
thing I wanted. That’s a kind of blackmail, 
too. But I tell you this — I hope to clear Ham- 
ilton Willingham’s name some day, and though I 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 179 

don’t know how I’m going to do it, I sort of feel 
in my hones that sooner or later I’ll succeed. On 
second thoughts I believe I’ll take your advice 
and see Gid Morganfield when he comes, though 
it’ll he hard for me to keep my hands off him.^^ 
Don’t get too peppery when he appears,” 
said Teaford, and on the other hand, don’t he 
too refined in your methods about driving a bar- 
gain. You’re to deal with a slippery rascal who 
will outwit you unless you keep your eyes wide 
open. Above all things don’t mention the fact 
that I’ve been here. It might cost me my life.” 

Uncle Ben promised to use discretion, though 
he was still a little uncertain as to how he would 
meet the situation. Shortly afterward Teaford 
left. 

For some reason or other which he himself 
could not explain. Ham did not tell Uncle Ben 
that he had overheard the entire conversation in 
the stable. Neither did the veteran say anything 
about it, nor did he mention, two days later, that 
he had received a letter from Gideon Morganfield 
in which that knave announced a purpose to visit 
Heron’s Nest. 


CHAPTER XIX 

WHY THE VETEEAN HATED MOBGANFIELD 

Although Ham did not think it was wise just 
at that time to inform Uncle Ben that he had 
heard the conversation in the stable, he was not 
so secretive with Snag. In fact, the owner of 
the silver duckwing had hardly returned from his 
gravel-shooter hunt before Ham began pouring 
the story into his ears. Snag was the kind of 
boy to whom one liked to tell things. He was 
always sympathetic and interested and could 
offer advice like grown folks. In this instance 
he gave even more attention than usual to the 
words of his friend, nor did he interrupt at all 
save when he grunted with surprise or scratched 
at the chiggers on his bare legs. 

‘‘ What ought I to do? asked Ham, when 
he came to the end of his story. I don^t un- 
derstand any more than a rabbit about bonds 
and suchlike, and I haven’t got the slightest idea 
180 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 181 

wliy Uncle Ben hates that ‘ resurrectionist/ Mor- 
ganfield, so. But the thing that bothers me most 
of all is the way they talked about my dad. What 
did they mean by saying that people think he 
‘ made away ’ with the bonds? 

Snag, without having much more knowledge of 
business than Ham, knew all too well what this 
meant. Like so many others, he had heard vague 
rumors about Major Willingham, though he had 
never breathed a word of them to his chum. Now 
he was confronted with a direct question bearing 
on the matter. He immediately decided he would 
neither lie nor tell the truth. He would simply 
dodge the question. 

I dunno what bonds are,’’ he replied, and 
then, after spitting through his teeth to prove 
he wasn’t embarrassed, he added, B’lieve 
they’re something like money — almost as good, 
anyhow. If I was in your place I’d ask Uncle 
Ben what bonds are; and I think I’d also ask 
him to tell me all about my Pa — that is, your 
Pa.” 

It will thus be seen that foxy Snag, to save 
himself the pain of hurting his friend, shoved 


182 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the disagreeable duty off on Uncle Ben, or, as 
boys say nowadays, “ passed the buck ’’ to Uncle 
Ben. Moreover, instinct told the wise youngster 
that some older head than himself should handle 
this delicate matter. 

“ Must I tell Uncle Ben about our lettin’ loose 
them dorgs and about the grave robbery? ” 
asked Ham. 

“ Well, I dunno. Maybe he wouldn’t under- 
stand and might fly the handle. Suppose we lay 
low and keep quiet about that a little longer. I 
ain’t sayin’ as we oughtn’t tell him sometime, 
but I reckon it can wait. Let’s moon over it 
between now and the time Morganfield gits 
here.” 

‘‘ Did we do so very wrong rescuin’ Nigger 
and turnin’ loose that lowdown parcel of curs? ” 
queried Ham. 

‘‘ I don’t think so and you don’t think so, but 
that don’t mean that the poundmaster and the 
police are of our way of thinking. Yet the news- 
paper says as plain as daylight that everybody 
took it as a joke and was tickled to death about 
it” 


The Lady Dragon of Bamcing Point 183 

‘‘ Then if nobody ain't mad about the dorgs 
why should anybody be sore because we after- 
wards ran off to the buryin '-ground and saw a 
lot of grave-robbers? " inquired Ham, with more 
logic than grammar. We certainly didn't 
mean to see 'em, and we certainly didn't have no 
gay time when we did see 'em." 

Folks is curious," said Snag. They'll git 
off their gazippe 'bout one thing and then swal- 
low sumthin' a heap worse like 'twas pie. I say 
you'd better go slow. Suppose you kinder feel 
out Uncle Ben a little. First ask him about 
bonds and then, sorter careless like, ask him 
about — your father." 

It wasn't many hours after this before Ham 
screwed up the courage to approach his kins- 
man. ‘‘ Uncle Ben," he said, without beating 
about the bush, I want you to tell me about my 
Dad — all about him." 

The unexpected question startled the old sol- 
dier. He grew fidgety and for a minute made 
no reply. Then he slowly answered, It's a sad 
story. Ham, and I hate to relate it. Hasn't your 
mother told you all you need to know? " 


184 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

‘‘ Ma has tried to tell me over and over again, 
but she always breaks down and cries, and that 
hurts me so. I^d rather have a man tell me so 
I won’t cry, too.’’ 

Well,” said Uncle Ben, as he wiped a sus- 
piciously moist eye, I can tell you ’most every- 
thing in a few words. You know your father 
was drowned oft the coast of North Carolina in 
a storm while goin’ by boat to Savannah. He 
was one of the bravest soldiers that ever lived, 
and a crackin’ good lawyer, too. He went to his 
reward when you were only a little chap of five. 
There wasn’t an honester or more upright man 
in Virginia, or in the whole world for that mat- 
ter.” 

‘‘ Did everybody think as you do about him? ” 
interrupted Ham. ‘ ‘ I mean, did everybody think 
he was honest and upright? ” 

‘‘Yes, everybody — that is, everybody who 
knew him as I did,” evasively answered the old 
soldier, much confused. 

“ But aren’t there people who say hard things 
about him, Uncle Ben, even if you and I don’t 
believe them? Please don’t keep anything back; 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 185 

I gotta know one time or the other. Ma always 
weeps so I can't git heads nor tails outer what 
she says. You go ahead and tell no matter how 
bad it hurts me.’’ 

Uncle Bv*a turned red in the face. Then he 
began to hem and haw and to look thoroughly 
miserable. But Ham kept a steady eye on him, 
and the veteran saw that the boy was determined 
to carry his point. 

Finally the old soldier yielded. Maybe it’s 
just as well that I do tell you,” he said, gently, 
‘‘ seein’ that I loved your father and love you 
so well. You’ve got to hear it sooner or later, 
and it’s best for it to come from a friend. The 
story is not easy for a boy to grasp, but I’ll 
try to make it plain.” 

I reckon I can understand somehow,” re- 
plied Ham, it’s about some bonds, ain’t it? ” 
Yes, that’s it. As I’ve said, your father was 
a lawyer. About two months before his death a 
large estate was put into his hands ; I mean, he 
was intrusted with a lot of property belongin’ to 
a rich man who had died. Your father was what 
they call executor of the estate — had to manage 


186 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

it generally, pay all the bills owed by the dead 
man and collect all the money due him. Among 
the things that came into his hands were $20,000 
worth of coupon bonds. 

‘‘ Here’s where I am stupid,” said Ham. 
‘‘ What are bonds? ” 

‘‘Well, if I were to give you the legal defini- 
tion you’d understand less than you do now. For 
our purpose it is only necessary to say that 
bonds are somewhat like money. Suppose a new 
railroad is about to be built and money is needed 
to start the work. Well-to-do people lend the 
company cash and the company gives these peo- 
ple its bonds — that is, its promise under seal to 
pay back the money with interest for the loan.” 

“ I kinder get a glimmer now, but what about 
those outlandish things called ‘ coupons’? ” 

“ Let’s do some more supposin’,” said Uncle 
Ben. “ Let’s suppose you lent the railroad com- 
pany $20,000 for thirty years. In return the com- 
pany would promise not only to pay the $20,000 
back at the end of that time, but to give you a 
certain amount of interest — say six per cent — 
every year. Coupons are the slips attached to 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 187 

the bonds which call for interest. On a thirty- 
year bond there are sixty slips, one for each six 
months. As each half year’s interest falls due, 
you cut oif a slip (or coupon) for that particular 
period, take it to a bank and get cash for it. 
Understand? You draw your interest every six 
months if you want to. Here’s the way an arith- 
metic would put it: Six per cent interest for a 
year on $20,000 is $1,200 ; for six months or half 
a year, $600. Therefore each of the sixty cou- 
pons on a thirty-year bond for $20,000 would 
call for $600.” 

“ I think it all begins to soak into my cocoa- 
nut,” said Ham. But it’s too much like school 
for me to want to hear any more. Y^^t did my 
Dad do with the bonds put in his hands? ” 

‘‘ That’s the very thing we all want to know,” 
said Uncle Ben. I think — in fact, I am cer- 
tain — that a man named Gideon Morganfield 
stole them, but that I’ve never been able to prove. 
Unfortunately, these bonds did not have the 
owner’s name on them. They were like green- 
backs in that respect. Once lost there was little 
chance of recovering them, unless they fell into 


188 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the hands of an honest person who knew they 
had been lost.’^ 

Who is this thief Morganfield? ’’ asked Ham, 
as innocently as if he and Snag had never heard 
of the resurrectionist.’’ 

‘‘He’s a gambler and a blackleg, but thus far 
has been able to escape justice, chiefly, I sus- 
pect, because he was educated as a lawyer. About 
a year before his death your father took Mor- 
ganfield, a younger man than himself, in the law 
office with him and helped the scoundrel in every 
way possible. I never liked the fellow but Major 
Willingham said he was bright and promising 
and would outgrow his faults.” 

“ How did Morganfield get his hands on the 
bonds? ” 

“ Oh, that would have been easy at any time 
since he had your father’s confidence, but it came 
about naturally when Major Willingham was un- 
expectedly called to Savannah on business. In 
order to get a little rest and sea air, he decided 
to go South by boat. Before starting, he turned 
over to Morganfield for safekeeping all the im- 
portant papers relating to the rich man’s estate 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 189 

— among them the bonds, unless I’m greatly de- 
ceived. They were to be put in a fireproof vault. 
A week later came the awful news that Major 
Willingham had been washed overboard in a 
storm. Your mother and I at first were too 
stunned to think of your father’s professional 
atfairs, but in a reasonable time I took hold of 
this business. 

Of course I went to Morganfield. He pre- 
tended to be deeply grieved over your father’s 
death and said he would do anything in the world 
to help me. Then of his own free will he told 
me that Major Willingham had turned over some 
valuable documents to him and that he would 
produce them at once. This he did. Every paper 
was in ship shape and showed how systematically 
your father had done his work. But the bonds 
were missing.” 

‘‘ What did Morganfield say about them? ” 

He expressed great surprise at my suppos- 
ing he had the bonds and swore they never had 
been in his hands. There was absolutely no way 
I could prove the contrary; indeed, for the time 
bein’ I accepted his word. Then, too, the scoun- 


190 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

drel promised to do everything he could to help 
me find them. Two months passed and though 
we searched high and low, the lost papers did 
not show up. Even advertisements published in 
the papers failed to throw any light on the mat- 
ter. Finally Morganfield took me aside one day 
and in a half whisper he said, ‘ Captain, I guess 
youVe begun to think as I do. Maybe Major Wil- 
lingham had those bonds with him when he took 
the trip. You know he left rather suddenly.’ ” 

What did he mean by that? ” asked Ham. 

He was pretending that he thought your 
father stole them. When I realized the charge he 
was making, I said, ^ Morganfield, you are a 
hound to hint at a thing like that. Some day 
those bonds are going to turn up, unless you 
yourself have stolen them, and when that day 
comes I’m going to cowhide you for what you’ve 
just said.’ ” 

, “I want to be on hand when you do it,” said 
Ham, or better still, I’d prefer to do it myself 
if I come within reach of him.” 


CHAPTER XX 

AN INVISIBLE COW BELLOWS IN THE MUD 

It must not be supposed that either the visit 
of the repentant sinner, John Teaford, or the 
information Ham got about the missing bonds, 
long diverted the minds of the two Richmond 
boys from their thoughts of the Charles City 
dragon. Indeed, they never went to the stable to 
see Nigger without asking the oft-repeated ques- 
tion, What bit him? or without speculating as 
to the nature of the monster which had maimed 
the dog. 

Under these circumstances, you may be sure 
that Ham and Snag danced with joy when Uncle 
Ben announced one morning that he was going 
back to Dancing Point with Buck Timberlake and 
that the two youngsters might accompany him. 

This was two days after the talk about the 
tragic death of Major Willingham. Since that 
time the veteran had seemed to keep out of 
191 


192 The Boys* Big Game Series 

Ham’s way and had not renewed the conversa- 
tion they had. If the truth must be known, the 
old soldier hoped that he was done with that 
matter so far as his nephew was concerned. But 
he reckoned without his host. 

After the party had reached Dancing Point, 
and Gumbo, still unusually sober, had put the 
shack in order, the fat boy found another oppor- 
tunity to see the peg-leg warrior alone. He im- 
mediately used it to ask further questions. 

Uncle Ben,” said he, yon didn’t tell me what 
you and Ma did when all your searchin’ failed 
to bring those bonds to light? Didn’t you ever 
get the track of them? ” 

‘‘ Not to this day have they been found,” re- 
plied Uncle Ben. There were ten coupon bonds 
in all — each of the denomination of two thou- 
sand dollars. By what I then regarded as a 
stroke of good luck I came across a memorandum 
showing the company’s number for each bond. 
These numbers also appeared on the bonds them- 
selves. Using this information, I published in all 
the larger Virginia papers a notice telling of the 
loss of the bonds and giving the number of each. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point , 193 

I also had printed three thousand circular letters 
which I have sent broadcast over the country to 
all persons, firms or companies likely to buy such 
securities. I begged all honest people to com- 
municate with me in the event the bonds were 
offered them for sale or other purposes. 

But six months ago a Norfolk firm wrote 
me that four interest coupons clipped off one of 
the missing bonds had come into its hands. They 
were traced back to a bad character in that town. 
Now Gideon Morganfield left Eichmond, where 
he and your father had practiced law, less than 
a year after Major Willingham’s death and set- 
tled in Norfolk. There he went from bad to 
worse, and now I am told that he runs a gam- 
bling den. You can put two and two together 
and guess why I suspect him.” 

“ Did you and Ma have to pay the money 
back? ” asked Ham. 

Uncle Ben looked hard at the boy for a min- 
ute as if he hesitated to answer the question. 
Then he slowly replied, ‘‘ Ham, you ought to 
know we are not the kind of people to let others 
suffer because of our misfortunes. We have 


194 The Boys' Big Game Series 

made great sacrifices — cruel sacrifices. Tfiat’s 
why your mother is a dressmaker; and that’s 
why Heron’s Nest is the ramshackle, tumble- 
down old place you see. But the rich man’s heirs 
have lost nothing. My sister and I have sur- 
rendered every luxury. We have but one com- 
plaint to make. There are malicious people who 
whisper things about your father and solemnly 
shake their heads when his name is mentioned. 
I’ve even seen some of our relatives do it.” 

‘‘I’d kill ’em if I caught ’em at it,” hotly said 
Ham. 

“ Be patient, boy, be patient,” sighed Undo 
Ben, as he wiped his watery eyes with a ban- 
danna handkerchief. “ One other thing, too, my 
son. Please don’t ask me any more questions 
about all this. Now run off and play with the 
other boys and let’s forget all about our talk.” 

Poor fat little Ham — or big Ham, if you pre- 
fer. All that day he kept moping about his fa- 
ther’s death and his mother’s unhappiness. Snag 
and Buck, quick to notice the lad’s misery, deter- 
mined to cheer him up. 

“ Let’s go down by the spring again tonight,” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 195 

said Snag, tlie wise one, and look around for 
the Charles City dragon — no, excuse me, I 
mean Buck Timberlake^s cow sturgeon/^ 

It was remarkable to see the way Ham perked 
up at this. He accepted the suggestion at once, 
though it made him sad to think that poor Nig- 
ger, lying helpless up in the stable, could not ac- 
company the party. 

Grumbo, for his part, flatly declined to go with 
de young white gempmuns ’’ when the appoint- 
ed time came. Nawsuh,” said he, violently 
shaking his woolly head in protest, I gwine let 
well ernuf be. Sumpin dun hit me one of de 
pow’fules’, rambunctiouses whacks dis nigger 
eber got down dar, an^ my stummuck am plum 
full uv dat dar draggum. Beckon dat frizzle- 
haar Newfoumlum dorg feels de same way, too. 
Him an’ me dun got our share uv trubbul al- 
ready.” 

To the great disappointment of the boys, noth- 
ing in any way unusual was to be found at the 
spring. Even with the use of a lantern no foot- 
prints or tracks could be seen. 

But the three were determined to have some 


196 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

sort of an adventure, so they pushed on farther 
still until they reached the place near which 
Nigger had been injured. Here the land was 
overgrown with grasses and reeds, none of which, 
however, were over knee high. This territory, 
in addition to being wet, soggy and hard to 
travel, seemed equally as uninteresting as the 
rest of the ground traversed. 

‘‘I’m for quittin’ all this mud larkin’ and 
slushin’ back home to bed,” said Snag. “ It’s 
a poor night for dragons and cow sturgeons.” 

Ham and Buck thought the same way, so they 
all turned back. Just as they wheeled around, 
a dreary, mooing sound, apparently near the 
Water’s edge, struck their ears from the rear. 

Each boy halted to listen. Nobody got excited 
or frightened. Buck, after the first pause, laugh- 
ingly said, “ Hi there, some old cow’s gone and 
got stuck in the mud.” 

“ Cow sturgeon, you mean,” retorted Snag. 
“ You’ll be tellin’ us in a minute that they moo 
just like cattle, so hurry up and git it out quick. ’ ’ 

“ No, this time I mean a four-legged cow,” 
laughed Buck. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 197 

A moment later, however, the would-be 
preacher in his heart wasn’t quite so ready to 
admit that the sound came even from an ordinary 
four-legged cow. By then the noise had devel- 
oped into a bellowing, and this, in turn, changed 
into a thunderous rumbling, punctuated at in- 
tervals by tremulous blasts which resounded over 
the marshlands like some unearthly trumpet call. 

The dragon! whispered Ham in awed 
tones. 

^‘An old cow mired way down deep in the 
mud,” insisted stubborn Buck Timberlake, who 
knew he was fibbing. 

^^An old cow sturgeon bellowin’ to be milked,” 
chuckled the owner of Billy Mahone, who also 
knew he, too, was fibbing. 

Even as the boys spoke, their noses, as well 
as their ears, sensed a strange presence. On 
the damp, malarial air there came to their nos- 
trils a sickening, fetid odor, something like the 
smell of musk, but far from pleasant. 

This, like the noise, died away in time; and 
then Buck Timberlake, looking deathly pale in 
the lantern light, spoke up and said, I don’t 


198 


The Boys’ Big Game Series 

care what you two think of me. I^m going to 
admit right here that that bellowing had me 
sheered out of my socks for a little spell. While 
I know it^s a cow, I’m bound to say the old girl 
made the curiousest sounds I ever heard.” 

Goose bumps are still as thick as hops on 
me,” confessed Ham, ^nd I’m so flustered I 
can’t see straight. Nuthin’ could make me be- 
lieve that that there thing we’ve heard hollering 
was a cow.” 

It certainly wasn’t no canary bird,” piped 
Snag, trying to ‘‘ act smart,” but fooling no- 
body, and I’ll eat my hat if it’s a cow. But 
no matter what it turns out to be, my heart’s 
going flippety-flop. I say let’s scoot.” 

Not much we don’t,” answered Buck. 

Sheered or not sheered, we’re going down thar 
by the water’s edge and help pull that beef outer 
the mud. Here in Charles City we folks stick 
by each other. I’d be the last one in the land to 
let a neighbor lose a head of stock without lend- 
in’ a helpin’ hand if it could be saved.” 

Unwilling to take a dare,” though feeling 
much inclined to show the white feather. Ham 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 199 

and Snag agreed to accompany Buck. But Oh! 
how they did hate that country gawk for having 
challenged them to follow him. 

Had anyone said Boo about this time, 
there’s no telling what those hoys might have 
done. Yet whistling to keep up their courage, 
they proceeded to the place whence the noise had 
come. 

There they found — absolutely nothing. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE DRAGON PUTS ALL TO FLIGHT 

Of course the boys dragged Uncle Ben aside 
early the next morning and told the tobacco- 
chewing veteran all about the invisible cow that 
had bellowed in the mud. The story was too 
good to keep. Moreover the youngsters by now 
had grown positively uneasy and needed the 
moral support of a grown-up. So strange and 
harrowing had been their experiences that they 
had almost come to the belief that Dancing Point 
had a ‘‘ bant ” who was quite as wonderful and 
far more dangerous than the old-time demon out- 
danced by the traditional Lightfoot. 

Uncle Ben listened with a quizzical smile hid- 
ing among his gray whiskers, and then he roared 
out, If you read history you’ll see where the 
colonists originally intended to build a great big 
town in Charles City. Even to this day we 
haven’t so much as a one-horse village in the 
200 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 201 

county. I propose to establish here a hospital 
for the insane. Already I’ve got four lunatics — 
Buck, Ham, Snag and Gumbo — and dam my 
buttons if I don’t sometimes feel that I’m gettin’ 
looney, too.” 

What makes you talk that-a-way, Uncle 
Ben? ” humbly inquired Ham. 

Well, sirs,” thundered the old soldier as he 
jabbed his wooden leg into a pile of soft sand, 
it’s because of the yarns you young whipper- 
snappers and that nigger Gumbo are always 
tellin’ me. Every time you leave the house you 
come back with some hair-raisin’, cock-and-bull 
story.” 

‘‘ But sumthin’ certainly did chaw Nigger’s 
leg,” interrupted Snag. ‘‘ That sure ain’t no 
lie. You kin see his sawed-oif paw in alcohol.” 

Yes,” admitted Uncle Ben, and that’s 
what makes me so all-fired mad. I can’t puzzle 
out that dog’s mishap. It wasn’t a shark, a 
sturgeon or a turtle that nabbed him, and it ain’t 
likely that he tackled a buzz-saw or got tangled 
up in a threshing machine, so I keep askin’ my- 
self what did injure him. You see, I’m goin’ 


202 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

crazy like the rest of you. Plague if I don^t peg 
along with you-all the next time you do any 
nosin’ around even if I get rheumatism in my 
wooden leg.” 

Had the old soldier known how quickly he 
would be taken at his word he would never have 
uttered it. All that forenoon Ham, Snag and 
Buck waited for Uncle Ben to finish his work, 
and the minute he settled down after dinner for 
a thoughtful chew, they pounced upon him. ‘‘ If 
you’ll go with us,” urged Ham, ‘‘ we promise to 
find the dragon or bust.” 

So the poor old warrior, though secretly hank- 
ering after a nap, finally consented to stump 
along with his younger companions. It was a 
heavy, hot day, and there were hungry mosqui- 
toes a plenty to worry everybody, but all the 
same the youngsters made rapid strides. This 
means that Uncle Ben got far more exercise than 
he had bargained for. Despite his fatigue, how- 
ever, he patiently inspected all the dragon 
landmarks,” as he called them, and showed no 
signs of balking when a plunge into the reed- 
grown marsh was proposed. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 203 

Locomotion now became more and more diffi- 
cult, for the vegetation grew thicker and the 
ground wetter at almost every step. Time and 
again the agonized cries ‘‘ Ouch! ’’ or Holy 
mackerel! ’’ revealed that one of the boys had 
suffered a cut or scratch. Uncle Ben fared worst 
of all. More than once his wooden leg went down 
deep in the mud while his good leg remained high 
and dry. 

This sort of traveling under the summer sun 
soon exhausted everybody. It would have end- 
ed in short order had Buck not found a sort of 
trail. This, aside from the relief it offered, had 
other attractions. There was something peculiar 
about it. One naturally found one’s self asking 
the question, Who or what made it and why was 
it made? To judge by the manner in which the 
vegetation had been beaten down, the path was 
the work of some heavy animal. Yet what was 
the purpose of the animal? 

Going in one direction the trail led ninety feet 
onward to the river bank. Followed in the other 
direction it ended abruptly in a dense, piled-up 
tangle of broken reeds, and marsh grasses. 


204 The Boys' Big Game Series 

Mncli puzzled, the boys went sleuthing back 
and forth over the short path. Neither they nor 
Uncle Ben could account for it, nor could any 
tracks or footprints he found to enlighten them. 
Finally Buck said: “I’m going to take a squint 
at that pile of brush.” Regardless of danger he 
jumped over into the tangle and began looking 
around. 

It was but a moment before his companions 
heard him cry out, “ I’ve found it. There’s a 
great big nest in here and it’s got some whoppin’ 
eggs in it! ” 

That was enough for Ham and Snag. In two 
shakes of a sheep’s tail they were standing by 
the side of Buck and all three were gazing at the 
nest. An outlandish-looking atfair this nest was, 
too. At first barely distinguishable from the 
surrounding vegetation, closer inspection showed 
that it was conically shaped like a mound, and 
stood up about four feet from the ground. 
Among the leaves in its center lay five eggs, each 
about the size of a turkey egg. 

“ The old bird that laid them was a buster,” 
excitedly remarked Snag, “ but to save me, I 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 205 

can^t see why she put ^em so high above the 
earth/ ^ 

Maybe ’twas an ostrich/^ ventured Ham, 
and then he gleefully added, ‘‘ Yes, that’s it — 
’twas an ostrich; and she’s the same bird that 
kicked Gumbo and made them tracks near the 
spring.” 

‘‘ Ostrich nuthin’, sneered Snag. I seen in 
a geog’fry where an ostrich ain’t got but two 
toes.” 

‘‘ Then ’twas a wild turkey or maybe a turkey 
buzzard that built this thing here,” ventured 
Buck, who meanwhile had been putting the eggs 
into his hat. 

Ham advised leaving the nest undisturbed, but 
Snag was not so easily satisfied. Let’s scratch 
down in it a little ways and see what’s at the 
bottom,” suggested that restless youth. 

Imagine the surprise of all when, after remov- 
ing several handfuls of decaying leaves and 
reeds, the boys found a second lot of eggs — 
nine this time. These were about eight inches 
beneath the first five and rested on a layer of 
grass and mud. 


206 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

There must be more still, exclaimed Snag, 
who was hard to satisfy. We ain^t anywhere 
near the bottom, Let’s scratch down in the nest 
again.” 

Though the boys had been astonished before, 
they now gasped with amazement. Below the 
second set of eggs they came across still another 
stratum of mud and grass, on which reposed 
thirteen eggs. 

‘‘ Gee whillikens! it’s a regular three-story 
house,” exclaimed Buck. ‘‘ I’ve been around a 
heap in this county and I’ve seen lots of nests, 
but I never set eyes on the likes of this before. 
It’s a regular incubator. Let’s dig down still a 
little deeper.” 

But no more eggs were found, and so the 
youngsters fell into a dispute as to whether or 
not they should rob the nest. Ham’s counsel pre- 
vailed and the eggs were not taken away. 

All perhaps would have ended well had the 
investigation ceased at this point. But Snag, as 
usual, wasn’t satisfied. An impulse to rub two 
of the eggs against each other and thus test the 
strength of their shells, seized the inquisitive 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 207 

boy. Before anybody could stop him he was try- 
ing the experiment. 

Vastly different from what had been ex- 
pected were the results of this trick. Not more 
than three times had Snag scraped the surfaces 
of the shells together when Uncle Ben, standing 
just a little beyond the nest, was heard to bellow 
like a bull. 

‘‘ Here it comes, boys, here it comes,” he 
thundered. Eun for your lives. Don’t lose a 
second. Never mind about me. Each man for 
himself. THE DEAGON IS ON US! ! ” 

No further warning was needed. That one cry 
sufficed. Each youngster made a mad leap for 
the path. A deer could not have outjumped them 
just then. Yet, with all their terror, the fugi- 
tives somehow found an opportunity to glance 
around. Behind them they saw a sight both 
horrible and grotesque — a sight well calculated 
to freeze the very marrow in their bones. Uncle 
Ben was in full fli^t and making marvelous time 
despite his wooden leg. Crawling rapidly up 
the path from the river and only four yards in 
the rear of the retreating veteran, was a hideous 


208 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

monster of unbelievable size. To the bulging 
eyes of Ham and Snag and Buck it looked as 
large as a steamboat. As an actual fact it was 
more than ten feet long. 

With a single glance the boys were able to 
perceive that their pursuer was a gigantic, scaly 
reptile of olive green color. Between the horny, 
saw-toothed plates on its long back and tail glis- 
tened the water of the river from which it had 
just emerged. From its flat, spoon-shaped head 
protruded two cruel yellow eyes set in sockets 
raised far above the skull. In its huge open 
mouth gleamed mighty teeth that were well-nigh 
appalling. Though moving on short, bowed legs, 
which sprawled far apart, the creature made as- 
tonishing progress. Fortunately, however, its 
speed was not so great, proportionately, as that 
of a lizard or snake. 

Nor did the monster have the speed of Ham, 
Snag and Buck, which means that they out-dis- 
tanced the reptile in a jitfy. 

Not so with Uncle Ben. He was giving the 
fearful thing some magnificent lessons in run- 
ning, when ker-plunk! down went his wooden 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 209 

leg into a mud puddle. There he stuck. Try as 
he might he could not extricate himself. 

Meanwhile the oncoming monster speedily 
dragged its scaly length towards the imprisoned 
veteran. Was the old rebel who had so long de- 
fied the shot and shell of the Union army to 
perish now like a rat in a trap! Not much. He 
wasn’t that sort of a quitter. Uncle Ben always 
had maintained that a man never was really dead 
until he was in his coffin and planted under 
ground. With no weapons of defense at hand 
and absolutely helpless, he now decided to put 
his theory into practice. 

From afar the hoys heard him roar out, Dem 
your stinking hide, if you come an inch nearer, 
I’ll kick the stuffings out of you with my good 
leg.” 

Oh, miracle of miracles! The reptile did not 
call the old soldier’s bluff. It came up within six 
feet of Uncle Ben and paused. Then, hearing 
the threat, it defiantly polluted the air with its 
foul, musky odor, turned around and quickly 
made its way back to the river. 

Three minutes later the veteran, in his usual 


210 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

tone of voice, was yelling to the boys, Come 
on here, you young whippersnappers, and drag 
me out of the mud. Vve sheered the varmint 
off.’’ 

With far more caution than they ever had be- 
fore displayed. Ham, Snag and Buck retraced 
their steps. Each one, perhaps, was just a little 
ashamed of having left Uncle Ben in the lurch, 
but hadn’t he himself told them to fly? 

The mud-gripped prisoner, however, had no 
complaint to make. He appeared quite calm and 
was placidly chewing tobacco when the trembling 
boys reached him. 

‘‘ Why don’t you unstrap your wooden leg and 
leave it where it is if you can’t do any better! ” 
suggested resourceful Snag. ‘‘ We’ll let you use 
us for crutches.” 

Bless my soul, I was so flabbergasted I 
never thought of it,” chuckled the old soldier. 
‘‘I’ll do that very thing.” Aided by his young 
friends, he thereupon proceeded to part company 
with his hickory limb. This done, the wooden leg 
was duly rescued. 

When Uncle Ben had once more been restored 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 211 

to his original post-bellum footing, he turned to 
the youngsters and said, Well, boys, we cer- 
tainly got a run for our money. I haven ^t done 
so much skedaddling since I ran into a hunch of 
Yankees near Seven Pines. 

What is that fearful thing that has us all 
going,” pantingly begged Ham. 

Well, sirs,” said Uncle Ben, spouting to- 
bacco juice and waving his arms, your dragon 
is nothing more or less than a huge alligator. 
How it got here God alone knows.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


A STRANGER COMES TO SPOIL THE FUN 

Although Ham and Snag and Buck had not 
been slow to run when the alligator came all 
dripping out of the river, they no sooner reached 
the shack than their courage returned with tre- 
mendous force. Safe out of danger’s way, they 
now urged Uncle Ben to borrow some weapons 
and go back with them to the scene of their re- 
cent flight. 

But the old soldier had enough exercise and ex- 
citement for one day. To the profound disap- 
pointment of his young friends he shook his head. 

I’m sorry, boys,” said he, but the lady 
dragon will have to wait. We must get a little 
rest today and tomorrow we’ll all have to be off 
for Heron’s Nest.” 

Somebody is forever taking the joy out of life. 
Right at the very time when things were getting 
positively thrilling, the boys were called upon to 
212 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 213 

turn their backs on all the fun and go home. 
The announcement nearly broke their hearts. No 
wonder Ham was almost weeping when he asked 
what was the reason for the unexpected change 
of programme. 

I have an important engagement at Heron ^s 
Nest,’’ explained Uncle Ben. man is to 

meet me there for a business talk which cannot 
be postponed. His letter was forwarded to me> 
this morning. Later on we may return here but 
go tomorrow we must.” 

That settled it. Protests were useless, and the 
youngsters resigned themselves to their hard 
luck. But their heads were full of plans for the 
future. Each one nursed a burning desire to 
kill the alligator. Ham couldn’t get his mind otf 
the subject and it wasn’t long before he was 
quizzing Uncle Ben about the reptile. 

<< Why did you call the thing a lady dragon? ” 
asked the fat boy. “ I don’t see how you could 
tell whether the monster was a lady or a gentle- 
man. ’ ’ 

You stupid kid! ” exclaimed the old soldier. 

Don’t you know that that pile of brush you-all 


214 


The Boys’ Big Game Series 

were pokin’ into was tlie alligator’s nest and that 
she laid those big eggs? No bird makes such a 
nest. I’m only venturing a guess when I say 
your beloved dragon was a female, but I don’t 
think I ’m wrong. It was the mother instinct that 
made her want to protect her eggs. Since I come 
to think about it, I’m sorry I spoke so rudely to 
the lady, but really she wasn’t behavin’ herself 
when I ‘ cussed her out’.” 

Up to this time it had not occurred to Ham and 
his associates to connect the alligator with the 
nest, though they had been quick enough to ac- 
cept the reptile as the Charles City dragon about 
which the negroes had talked so much. Things 
began to clear up marvelously after Uncle Ben’s 
explanation, though a good many doubtful points 
yet remained to be settled. 

‘‘ If that critter that made us git such a hump 
on ourselves is a lady alligator, do you suppose 
there are also some gentlemen alligators in the 
swamp? ” questioned Snag of the veteran. 

Uncle Ben cautiously expressed the belief that 
the ‘‘ lady ” he had addressed so roughly un- 
doubtedly had a husband somewhere, but he was 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 215 

not prepared to speak positively as to the hus- 
band ^s place of residence. 

“ To tell you the truth, boys,’’ he added, ‘‘I’m 
altogether mystified. I’ve lived here all my life, 
but up to this hour I’ve never heard a human be- 
ing mention that there were alligators in Charles 
City county. We’ve never had ’em heretofore 
and we don’t want ’em now. But if those eggs 
hatch I can’t tell what may happen. At the first 
opportunity we’ll go back and rob that nest. I 
don’t like the idea of having the ‘ Jeems ^ and 
Chickahominy rivers filled with the pesky var- 
mints, big or little.” 

This proposition was like oil on troubled 
waters. It proved most consoling to the boys. 
If carried out it meant still another adventure; 
and adventures couldn’t come fast enough for 
Ham, Snag and Buck. 

Everybody arose at sunup the next day for 
in addition to the long drive from Dancing Point 
to Heron’s Nest, many other matters had to be 
attended to. Then, too. Uncle Ben explained that 
he wanted to stop on the way at Wilson’s wharf 
to meet a man who was coming down on the 


216 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Ariel from Eichmond to talk business to him. 

This suited the boys finely. They liked to see 
the boat arrive and to watch the loading and un- 
loading of freight. Something interesting nearly 
always happened on such occasions. But Ham 
and Snag were not quite prepared for the sur- 
prise which awaited them at the wharf that day. 

Standing close to the gangplank, the boys saw 
a long string of passengers — mostly negroes — 
get off the steamer. Uncle Ben, they noticed, had 
an unusual look on his face as he watched the 
crowd coming to the landing. Then he bristled 
up like a man getting ready to fight. The next 
minute he was bowing stiffly to a well-dressed 
stranger. 

This new-comer, but for his bowed legs, his 
ugly ears and his eyes, which came close together, 
might almost have been called good-looking. 

He was Gideon Morganfield, gambler, crook 
and resurrectionist.’’ 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A FIGHTING SAVAGE DKOPS FROM NOWHERE 

It was in the somber, moth-eaten old parlor of 
the mansion at Heron’s Nest that Uncle Ben and 
Gideon Morganfield finally had their business 
talk.” 

Before the arrival of the boat at the wharf, the 
old soldier had told himself over and over again 
that he would not allow the blackleg to enter his 
house; but at the last minute his sense of Old 
Dominion hospitality had made him weaken, and 
so he opened the doors to the unwelcome visitor. 

Morganfield, despite his bad qualities, could 
assume good manners when it suited his pur- 
pose. His early associations had all been with 
gentlemen, and before he fell from grace, he 
had often been a guest at Heron ^s Nest. The an- 
cient, paneled room, with its damask curtains 
and tottering mahogany furniture therefore was 
no unfamiliar sight to him, though it must have 
217 


218 The Boys* Big Game Series 

hurt his conscience to note the signs of decay on 
every side. 

If you’ll permit the remark,” he smoothly 
said, by way of opening the conversation, this 
place awakens some pleasant memories in my 
mind. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Possibly so,” dryly remarked Uncle Ben, 

but if I understand your letters, we are here 
not to indulge in sentiment but to talk business. 
That is the condition on which I received you.” 

‘‘ Come, come. Captain,” retorted the gambler 
in a soft, wheedling voice, there’s nothing to 
be gained by harshness, and you need not fear 
that I’ll obtrude a moment longer than is neces- 
sary. ’ ’ 

Very well, what’s your proposition about 
the missing bonds? ” 

My proposition,” said Morganfield, showing 
just a little irritation, is really an offer of 
friendly assistance. I think there are ways by 
which I might get on the track of those missing 
securities for you.” 

‘‘ Friendly assistance from your quarter is 
something I hardly expect at this late day,” re- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 219 

plied the veteran. Yon declined to lend that 
years ago when you had the chance. Now, I 
take it, the help you offer will be on a basis of 
dollars and cents. How much do you want — in 
a word, what are we to pay you for your ‘ friend- 
ly assistance’.’’ 

Let’s proceed without exchanging sarcasms,” 
coldly suggested Morganfield, biting his lips and 
shifting his eyes towards the portraits of the 
stem old-time Virginians that lined the walls. 

I’m here to do a favor and I don’t want to lose 
my temper, though you are pressing me sorely.” 

‘‘All right, sir, I promise to exercise self-con- 
trol. Go ahead; go ahead. I’ll listen. We are 
alone and you Can talk freely. After all, it’s 
only fair to hear what you have to say.” 

“ That’s more satisfactory,” replied the un- 
comfortable visitor, as he tugged at the lion’s 
tooth on his watch chain. “I’ll begin by admit- 
ting what you’ve probably heard already: Of 
late years circumstances have made a profes- 
sional card player of me. In my walk of life, 
which isn’t altogether what I would like it to be, 
I come in contact with many loose characters 


220 The Boys’ Big Game Series 

and pick np mucli of the gossip about question- 
able people. Eecently, through means I am not 
at liberty to explain, I came across a clew con- 
cerning the bonds once in the hands of Major 
Willingham. ’ ’ 

‘‘ The person who holds them can hardly be 
an honest man,’^ snapped Uncle Ben, ‘‘ since 
their loss has been widely advertised for years.” 

That is a point I’ll not argue,” replied Mor- 
ganfield. Neither will I say that I know the 
party who has them. Furthermore, I may find 
later on that I can do nothing to assist you. It 
is my belief, however, with the present lights 
before me, that I can actually recover the 
bonds.” 

On what conditions? ” 

Morganfield paused, slyly cast his shifting eyes 
in every direction about the room, and said, I 
am led to believe that they will be put safely into 
your hands provided the sum of $2,000 is paid 
me as agent, or representative, of the person 
holding them.” 

‘‘So I’m to take the chance of trusting you 
with $2,000, although you yourself are not cer- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 221 

tain the individual holding the securities will 
agree to part with them.’’ 

‘‘No, you are to take no chances,” replied the 
gambler in honeyed tones, as though about to 
confer a favor. “ The proposition is this: If 
you give me your word of honor as a gentleman; 
that you will ask no questions and will agree to 
pay me the sum named after the receipt of the 
papers, the bonds will be sent you. To put it 
plainly, you pay nothing until you get the securi- 
ties. Of course, too, you are to keep quiet about 
this interview.” 

“ Do I hear you right, ” roared Uncle Ben. 
“I’m to pay $2,000 to a thief who has allowed 
the name of my sister’s husband to be black- 
ened; and in gratitude for the return of stolen 
property he’s afraid to sell, I’m to pledge my- 
self to silence. Morganfield, that is blackmail. 
You cowardly, contemptible scoundrel, do you 
think you are dealing with another of your fel- 
low criminals? I’ll give you just two minutes 
to get out of this house.” 

The peppery old man by now had altogether 
forgotten his determination to keep cool. He 


222 


The Boys^ Big Game Series 

was a picture of rage as lie arose from his chair 
and advanced toward the other man. 

Morganfield instantly realized his game would 
not work. Stung by his sense of defeat, he 
quickly showed his cloven foot. “ You old idiot, 
he slowly said — and his lip curled upward like 
the mouth of a snarling cur, as he inched hack 
from the ex-Confederate, ‘‘ I^d kick you into the 
middle of next week if you didn’t hide behind 
that wooden leg and your gray hairs. Let the 
world continue to call your Major Willingham a 
thief. After the abuse you’ve heaped on me, 
I’ll see you burning in torment before I let 
you have those bonds.” 

What happened the next minute could never be 
accurately described. Something creaked like the 
hinge on a small door. Then, apparently coming 
from nowhere, a mass of flesh and bone struck 
Morganfield almost with the force of a thunder- 
bolt and sent him reeling backward. 

Through eyes that were nearly blinded by a 
rain of blows the gambler vaguely saw before 
him a face that seemed half human and half 
devil. It was not the kindly face of the old sol- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 223 

dier whom he had so grossly insulted in his own 
home; Uncle Ben was standing a mute witness 
of all that was happening. Neither did it ap- 
pear to he the face of a white man nor yet that 
of a negro. The creature that so wildly attacked 
Morganfield — at first one wondered if it were 
not some demon — revealed features that were 
more fantastic than those of a painted savage 
in the delirium of battle. A flaming red glis- 
tened on one cheek and on the nose, while else- 
where the face was bespattered with a shining 
black. 

Some instinct of self-protection enabled the 
gambler, despite the suddenness of the onslaught, 
to shield himself behind a high-backed chair. 

This brought about a cessation of hostilities 
on the part of the man’s assailant. The pound- 
ing ceased and a high, shrill voice shrieked out, 
<< IVe got you at last, you dirty dog — you low- 
down scoundrel — you sneakin’ resurrectionist.’^ 

Uncle Ben, still almost dumb with astonish- 
ment, at last began to realize what was happen- 
ing. In the dirty, bedraggled figure before him, 
despite the dripping reds and blacks on its face. 


224 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

lie recognized his fat nephew, Hamilton Bacon 
Willingham. 

How dare you behave like that, you young 
rascal? boomed the master of the house, when 
he recovered his power of speech. ‘‘ I’ve a great 
mind to whale you within an inch of your life. 
You’ve outraged every law of decency. This 
man, scoundrel and blackleg though he be, came 
into my home under a guarantee of protection. 
I pledged my word that we should be alone and 
that no one would overhear us. You’ve made 
me out a liar, and a coward, too, for I needed no 
help to force Morganfield to swallow the words 
he’s just uttered.” 

Confound your laws of decency! ” yelled 
Ham, quite beside himself with excitement and 
wrath. ‘‘ Didn’t you hear what he said about 
my Dad? This bow-legged sneak is worse than 
a thief. He’s a vile, filthy resurrectionist — a 
low-down body snatcher.” 

‘‘Enough of this, young man,” thundered the 
old soldier, who did not at all understand what 
Ham was driving at and halfway believed the 
boy had gone crazy. “ Leave the room instantly. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 225 

IVe a word I want to say alone with Morgan- 
field. ’ ’ 

Ham started to obey. He sullenly turned and 
walked to the door. Then, unable to calm him- 
self, he wheeled around and whirled himself at 
Morganfield like a wildcat. Uncle Ben pounced 
upon the youngster, seized him by the collar and 
hustled him out of the parlor. Ham made no 
effort to resist his kinsman, but began to bawl 
out at the top of his voice, Uncle Ben, you 
donT understand. I ainT done no wrong. Dare 
him to tell you where he was on the night of 
June 20. Ask him if he knows a negro hack- 
driver named Sam Simpson. Find out what he 
does in Eichmond buryin ’-grounds.’^ 

Bang! The old soldier had put the excited 
boy out and slammed the door in his face. This 
done, he turned to Morganfield and said, ‘‘ Let 
me hasten to apologize for the conduct of my 
nephew, whose presence in this room was totally 
unknown to me. I am sincerely sorry for what 
he said and did. But on the other hand, sir, I 
demand an immediate retraction of the insulting 
words you uttered a little while ago.’’ 


226 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

Morganfield, deathly pale and mncli the worse 
for the blows inflicted upon him, looked hard at 
the courtly old warrior standing before him and 
at first made no response. Then, as if moved by 
some better self, he said, Captain, from you 
no apology is necessary. As for me, I willingly 
withdraw the offensive remarks I made. They 
should not have been uttered. You will pardon 
me, however, if I ask whether I am to see that 
devilish boy again before I leave. If I am to 
be waylaid by him either here or on the way 
to the wharf, I must be prepared, at least, to 
defend myself.’’ 

‘‘You shall not set eyes on him again, sir,” 
said the captain, “ at any rate not while you 
are in this county. I pledge my word for that. 
To make this certain, or rather to prevent any 
further scenes. I’ll accompany you to the land- 
ing. But would you not first prefer to give a 
little attention to your injuries? ” 

“ My wounds will not kill me,” curtly replied 
Morganfield, “ nor shall I tarry here to give 
them attention. But there are reasons why I 
would thank you to drive me to the wharf.” 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 227 

‘‘ That I will cheerfully do/’ said Uncle Ben, 
to whom politeness was a second nature. 

But it was not a merry ride these two men 
had when they drove back to the steamer land- 
ing that hot afternoon. Hardly a hundred words 
did they exchange. The gambler silently nursed 
two badly bruised eyes with a gaudy silk-hand- 
kerchief; and Uncle Ben — well, he simply kept 
quiet and chewed tobacco. 

As Morganfield stepped on the gangplank of 
the steamer, he put his hand into an inner coat 
pocket, drew forth a large envelope, placed it 
in the veteran’s hand and said, Open this 
when you return home but not before.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 

A SINNEE SOAKED INTO BEING GOOD 

Jogging back all alone from tbe wharf in 
his decrepit buggy Uncle Ben began to think 
over the many things that had happened since 
morning. “ What in the name of high heaven 
got into that nephew of mine? asked the peg- 
leg veteran of himself. ‘‘ He looked and talked 
and acted like a madman, and yet, when I come 
to reflect about it, I canT much blame him. 
Bum it all, IVe done that boy an injustice 
somehow. What^s more, I was an old hypocrite 
to pretend that I was sorry he pounded Mor- 
ganfield. My only regret is that I didn’t do 
it myself.” 

With such thoughts as these buzzing in his 
brain, the good man, after reaching Heron’s 
Nest, made his way through the boxwood hedges 
to the front porch of the mansion. There, 
seated on the dilapidated stone steps with a 
228 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 229 

far-away look in his eyes, was Ham. The 
youngster was strangely calm, and the clean- 
ness of his face, hands and shirt showed all 
too plainly that Cousins Millie and Bettie Lou 
had taken him in hand. 

My son,’’ said Uncle Ben, ‘‘I’ve got an 
idea I handled you too roughly a little while 
ago, though your conduct and your words are 
still beyond my understanding. Either you or I 
must have gone clean crazy. Why in the name 
of all that is good and holy did you come bouncin’ 
in on Morganfield and me, and where in Chris- 
tendom did you drop from? ” 

“ Well, sir, there wasn’t much magic about 
my droppin’ in on you,” said Ham with a grin 
which showed he bore no hard feelings against 
his kinsman. “ All the time you two was jawin 
each other I was hid in a cubby-hole in the 
paneling. Gee, it was hot in there, and my, 
how I did sweat! It sure is the dickens to be 
fat when you gotta squeeze into a hole like that 
one. ’ ’ 

“ But how did you slip into the room with- 
out our seeing you? ” 


230 The Boys* Big Game Series 

That wasn’t no fancy trick, neither,” mod- 
estly said the hoy. ‘‘ Me and Snag found the 
hole in the paneling weeks ago and others, too. 
When you and Morganfield stopped a minute 
at the stable, I sneaked off and ran into the 
parlor. I knew you were going there and that 
I didn’t have time to lose, so I jammed myself 
head first into the cubby hole and closed its 
little door tight behind me.” 

What made you paint yourself up that way 
like an Indian chief on the warpath? ” 

‘‘ It wasn’t paint that gormed me up so,” 
replied Ham, ‘‘ and if I’d a had my way I 
never would have got messed up like you saw 

me. Two bottles of ink — one red and one 

black — was in the cubby hole on a tiny shelf 
and neither of the plague-take-it bottles had any 
stopper in ’em. First thing I knew I’d knocked 
both over, and they began drippin’ on me. Hon- 
est, Uncle Ben, it seems to me like I drank 

ink. A regular river began pourin’ down in 

my eyes and nose and mouth. I didn’t know 
an ink bottle could hold so much. But that 
wasn’t all. The place was dark as Egypt and 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 231 

full of dust, and I jes sat there all scrunched 
up and ate dirt and drank ink while I sweated. 
Even this wouldn’t have been sd bad if some- 
body hadn’t put a broken package of tacks in 
the cubby-hole. Every time I moved one stuck 
in me. When I jumped out the seat of my 
pants was as full of tacks as a carpet. No 
wonder I hankered after a fight when you first 
seen me.” 

Things began to get just a little clearer for 
Uncle Ben, though there was still a great deal 
that he failed to comprehend. Almost dying 
to laugh at the account of his nephew’s troubles, 
he nevertheless thought it best to keep a straight 
face as he pursued the inquiry further. 

What possessed you to squeeze into that 
cubby-hole and eavesdrop when you must have 
known we wanted to have a private conversa- 
tion? ” he asked. 

Strange as had been the happenings of that 
day, the old soldier was not prepared for the 
amazing answer which came in response to this 
question. 

Uncle Ben,” said the son of the house of 


232 The Boys* Big Game Series 

Willingham, looking his kinsman squarely in the 
face, “ I shan’t lie to you even if it kills me. 
Snag and me is criminals jes’ like Morganfield 
— fugitives from justice. Almost ever since 
weVe been here weVe felt that our very foot- 
steps was bein’ dogged.” 

‘‘ Wliat’s that? What’s that? ” roared the 
peg-leg veteran, as he jumped out of his chair 
like a grasshopper and stumped towards Ham. 

Without flinching the boy now told of every- 
thing — the rescue of Nigger, the grave rob- 
bery in the cemetery, the bar-room scene on 
the steamboat and the manner in which he 
had overheard the conversation between Captain 
Christian and John Teaford. 

“ At last I see,” said Uncle Ben, with a roof- 
lifting hurst of laughter when the long recital 
was over. ‘‘Well, if it don’t heat bobtail! I 
never heard the like of it! WTio’d have thought 
it. Ham? Bless you, kid, you’re no criminal; 
you’re a great hoy — a seven days wonder. 
And so is Snag Perkins. Take me out and tar 
and feather me. I’m the thick-headedest old 
fool alive. If I’d listened to you we’d have 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 233 

Morganfield here a prisoner right this minute. 
He understood. The very minute you said 
‘ resurrectionist ’ and ‘ buryin-ground ’ he knew 
you had the drop on him. That’s the reason 
he wished to hustle off so quick and didn^'t 
want me to see you again. He knew you’d 
never let up until you made me understand.” 

Don’t take it so hard, Uncle Ben,” said 
Ham, who had begun to feel just a little self- 
important after so much praise. Who knows, 
we may catch Morganfield yet; anyhow, we 
got him on the run.” 

By the way, just as the scoundrel took the 
boat he gave me some papers to read,” remarked 
the veteran, recalling the big envelope in his 
pocket. I can’t imagine what they are. Ex- 
cuse me while I glance over them.” 

Peeping out of the corner of his eye. Ham 
saw his uncle’s face twitch in most unusual fash- 
ion as he scanned the contents of the envelope 
and then he heard him exclaim in an exultant 
voice, ‘‘ Oh joy! Wonders will never cease! I 
can hardly believe my eyes. Ham, it’s all your 
doings. Morganfield, without a word of expla- 


234 The Boys* Big Game Series 

nation, has returned the bonds he stole — all 
of them; and there ’re only five interest coupons 
missing. Glory hallelujah! 

‘ While yet the light holds out to bum 
The vilest sinner may return.’ ” 

Hooray for Nigger and Snag and the dog 
pound and the graveyard and the steamboat 
and even for the lady dragon! ” whooped Ham, 
but drat that rat, Gideon Morganfield, and 
the likes of him. Take my word for it. Uncle 
Ben, he’s one vile sinner that’s never going 
to return, lamp or no lamp. ’Twasn’t no piety 
or repentance but the skeerin’ he got from me 
that made him let loose them bonds.” 

Ham was right. Morganfield, to use the lan- 
guage of one Mr. Jefferson Davis Perkins, was 
a bad egg. 


CHAPTER XXV 


A GOOD MOTHER GIVES UP THE GHOST . 

Was there ever such a queer procession as 
that which filed through the marshes near Dan- 
cing Point on the scorching July day of which 
we write? At the head of the column, almost 
buried in a huge pair of bluejeans breeches, was 
a country gawk who carried a muzzle-loading 
shotgun. Behind him followed a fat boy with 
an axe and a lean boy with a gravel-shooter. 
Then came a bow-legged negro vTith a heavy 
garden hoe, a one-legged man with a cavalry 
saber and a horse pistol, and last of all, a 
three-legged dog with no weapons but his teeth. 

It will no doubt be easy to recognize the mem- 
bers of this strange hunting party. Yes, Buck 
and Ham and Snag and Gumbo and Uncle 
Ben and good old Nigger all were out in quest 
of the lady dragon, and each was headed for 
the mysterious nest in the canebrakes. 

235 


236 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

As had been the case before, the going through 
the swampy lowgronnds was far from pleasant, 
particularly for Uncle Ben, but every face 
wore a do-or-die expression, and things prom- 
ised to grow dreadfully hot for the object of 
their search. 

At last the nest was reached and the scene 
was set for a thrilling climax. One essential, 
however, was lacking. Although the eggs re- 
mained just as they had appeared before, and 
all the weapons were primed for business, no 
alligator hove in sight. What a throw-down! 
What a disappointment! In order to kill one 
must have something to kill. 

A five-minute wait convinced all that the 
lady dragon was not suicidally inclined. Despite 
whoops, shouts, whistlings and a mighty beating 
of bushes, she did not appear. Seemingly there 
was no way to get her to accept the challenge 
from her enemies. Over and over again the 
boys ventured out of the trail into the reeds 
and marsh grasses, but all in vain. 

Gumbo, who had grown bolder and bolder as 
the signs of danger became fewer and fewer. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 237 

even shuffled down to the river bank and there 
bade defiance to the connnon foe. 

‘‘ Nuthin’ doin’,” sadly said Ham, after nearly 
half an hour of useless fooling and fiddling.” 
“ That alligator’s like Gideon Morganfield; she 
knows how to scoot when she smells trouble.” 

‘‘I got an idea — naw, jes the part of an 
idea,” announced Snag, ‘‘ but I’m going to try 
it anyway, bein’ as nuthin’ else can’t coax the 
onery critter to show herself.” 

With that he made a monkeylike jump back 
into the brush heap where stood the nest. Grab- 
bing up two of the eggs he once more began 
scraping their leathery shells together and mak- 
ing a squeaking noise which could be heard 
clean to the river. 

Not a thing happened at first; indeed, nobody 
but Snag hoped that anything would happen 
as a result of his action. But just as the owner 
of Billy Mahone was about to give up in disgust, 
a howl came from the water’s edge. 

Looking down the trail towards the river. 
Ham and Buck and Uncle Ben saw Gumbo turn 
a sort of double somersault as his hoe went 


238 The Boys’ Big Game Series 

flying in another direction. Something had hit 
him again and hit him hard. 

It was the she-alligator. The cunning creature 
had popped up suddenly out of the water, 
given the negro a dizzying swat with her tail, 
knocked him out of the path, and now was 
making a bee line for the nest. 

‘‘Holy smoke! here she comes lickety split, 
yelled Ham. “ She’s biffed Gumbo a socdolager 
with her tail and is streakin’ it right towards 
us.” 

Before even a word could be said in reply, 
the fat boy, with Nigger at his heels, had rushed 
axe in hand down the path to meet the hideous 
monster. 

“ Come back, come back, you young idiot! 
You’ll be eaten alive,” bawled Uncle Ben, who 
quite forgot that he himself had drawn his 
sword and was rapidly stumping in the same 
direction. 

But Uncle Ben spoke too late. Ham and the 
lady dragon were speeding towards each other. 
One or the other had to get out of the road — 
the path could not hold two. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 239 

Appalling was tlie picture presented by tbe 
yawning mouth of the approaching alligator, 
but it didn’t stop Hamilton Bacon Willingham. 
Verily it looked as if he intended to jump right 
into the jaws of the reptile. But he had no 
such end in view. 

Within ten inches of the monster the boy 
leaped out of the path into the reeds. Some 
sixth sense told him that an alligator cannot 
turn its head like a horse or dog, and that unless 
the oncoming saurian got a whack at him with 
its powerful tail, all would be well. 

Some sixth sense also told the reptile that 
now was the time to act or perish. It twisted 
its huge length horseshoe fashion like a writh- 
ing trout on a fishhook, and was just about to 
make Ham feel the impact of its 400 pounds 
when whack! down came the axe. 

The blow, aimed with astonishing accuracy, 
struck the alligator crosswise on its armored 
back, and the steel, cutting through homy scales 
and plates, sank deep into its spine. No living 
animal could have withstood such a lick. The 
monster was dead a minute after Ham hit it. 


240 The Boys* Big Game Series 

But nobody was taking any cbances. Uncle 
Ben by now was alternately lambasting the rep- 
tile with his saber and shooting it with his 
horse pistol. Buck also got busy with his shot- 
gun, and it is needless to say that Mr. Jefferson 
Davis Perkins lent such assistance as he could 
with his trusty gravel-shooter. 

Nor should it be imagined that those who 
had suffered the most from the lady dragon 
now showed a yellow streak in this, her dying 
hour. Nigger, fiercer than ever he had been 
before in all his honest dog life, snapped vi- 
ciously at the alligator’s feet — at the five toes 
on the front feet and the four toes on the hind 
feet. Gumbo, sore as a boil from the clouting 
he had just received, plied his hoe as energet- 
ically as though competing for honors in a potato 
grubbing contest. 

Under such violent pressure the lady dragon 
of Charles City yielded up her spirit. What- 
ever else may be said of her, she had intended 
to be a loving mother to her unhatched off- 
spring, so let us hope that her soul flew forth- 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 241 

with to the heavenly everglades where good 
alligators probably get their reward. 

When it was all over and the excitement 
had abated a little, the various parties to the 
murder voted to take the carcass of the reptile 
to Heron’s Nest — a big job considering that 
it was ten feet long and weighed about 400 
pounds. It was further agreed that a stop 
should be made at Wilson’s wharf, so that 
all the county might know of the killing. Lastly 
it was decided that the monster, though badly 
mutilated, should be skinned. 

Well, all these things were done, though at 
the cost of much perspiration, for as has been 
said, the day was beastly hot. 

Of course Cousins Millie and Betty Lou, as 
well as aU the Heron’s Nest hands, white and 
black, had to see the dead alligator, though the 
number of times the sweet ladies exclaimed 
“ Sakes alive ” and Goodness gracious ” while 
inspecting the monster, was positively ridiculous. 

A curious thing happened during all this to-do. 
'While Snag was pointing out the five toes on 
the reptile’s front feet and the four toes on 


242 The Boys’ Big Game Series 

its hind feet, up strutted Billy Mahone. With- 
out an instant’s hesitation the silver duckwing 
hopped up on the alligator’s head and crowed 
lustily. 

Thus do the brave pay tribute to the brave. 
Who knows? maybe the rooster was sounding 
taps for the lady dragon. At any rate, she 
had died game, for it took courage to face the 
fighters who slew her. 


CHAPTEE XXVI 

SIMEON HAWKINS, JOKESMITH, APOLOGIZES 

Although Charles City county, Virginia, already 
has given two presidents for the United States 
and possibly may furnish more, she has never 
attained celebrity as a producer of alligators. In 
fact, no section of the old commonwealth of which 
she is a part can claim this peculiar line of rep- 
tiles as its specialty. 

According to naturalists, there was once a 
time when alKgators were found in North Caro- 
lina, the state which adjoins Virginia on the 
south, but even that day has long since passed. 
In view of this, it becomes necessary to explain 
the means by which the lady dragon ” reached 
the Old Dominion, since the laws of Nature 
are never reversed. 

The following letter, written from a certain 
point in Florida about a week after Ham used 
his axe with such fine effect, tells how and why 
243 


244 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

the monster came to the peaceful shores where 
she caused such a rumpus: 

Mr. Daniel Fentress, 

Dancing Point, Va. 

Dear Dan — 

When a man attempts to be funny he always makes 
a fool of himself. Along about the middle of last May 
yours truly tried to get funny and he sure did make 
an ass of himself. To tell the truth, he’s been miser- 
able ever since, too. My only hope is that through some 
stroke of good fortune, this apology will seem unnec- 
essary to you, though I fear just the contrary. 

To make a long story short, I shipped you by ex- 
press at the time mentioned, an immense female alli- 
gator. Being in a waggish humor (no, I hadn’t been 
drinking!) I marked the box ‘‘ Live Turtles.” In 
fancy I pictured your surprise and horror on open- 
ing the box. For nearly a week I laughed over the 
trick, and longed for a chance to see your face when 
you discovered that your ‘‘ live turtles ” had turned 
into a still livelier alligator. 

Then I got to thinking about my practical joke and 
it didn’t seem funny at all. My better judgment told 
me that I had made you the victim of a pretty dan- 
gerous prank and that serious consequences might re- 
sult from it. 

For the land’s sake, hustle off a letter at once and 
tell me that that dod-blasted old ’gator hasn’t done any 
harm. Better still, tell me that the demnition thing 
died in transit on the road. Yes, tell me anything ex- 
cept that I have played the very Old Scratch by acting 
the smart Aleck. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 245 

If, as I seriously fear, my joke has resulted in harm 
or injury to any one, I stand prepared to pay all costs. 
That^s as little as I can do, unless, in addition, I beg 
you to send the fool-killer down here to kick me. 

One thing more; It may interest you to know that 
the alligator shipped you was a widow. I saw her hus- 
band turn up his toes. While out hunting in the 
everglades one day we came across two nailing big 
’gators. They had devoured one of our dogs only an 
hour or so before, and I suppose we caught ’em on a 
full stomach. The larger reptile, undoubtedly the male, 
was quickly killed. We captured the lady. Then I 
conceived the absurd idea of shipping our prisoner 
alive to you. That little bit of fun, all told, cost me 
nearly one hundred dollars in boxing, freight and other 
charges. 

Do you remember that years ago, when I first started 
for Florida, you laughingly asked me to send you a 
’gator. Guess you’ve forgotten. Well, I didn’t forget; 
wish to heaven I had. 

I’ve prospered down here and made oodles of money. 
The county where I have my orange groves is almost 
as fine a one as Charles City. But me for ole Vir- 
ginny, rich or poor. 

The next box I send you will contain oranges — not 
^Mive turtles.” 

Your lunatic friend, 

Simeon Hawkins. 

It was a relief to Uncle Ben, Ham, Snag, 
Buck and everybody else — particularly Gumbo 
— to learn from Simeon Hawkins’s letter to 


246 The Boys* Big Game Series 

Mr. Fentress tliat no more alligators were lying 
around loose in Charles City county. 

But if those enterprising Richmond young- 
sters had not come across the lady dragon’s nest 
there’s no telling what increase the alligator 
population of the commonwealth might have 
undergone. The “ widow,” you remember, had 
laid more than two dozen eggs and thbse eggs 
— but no, that comes in the next chapter. For 
the present let us content ourselves with seeing 
what an eminent scientist. Dr. Hugh M. Smith, 
wrote in 1891 concerning the great reptiles. 
In the U. S. Fish Bulletin, No. XI, he says: 

The maternal alligator in April or May 
seeks a sheltered spot on a bank and there builds 
a small mound. The foundation of the mound 
is of mud and grass, and on this she lays some 
eggs. She covers the eggs with another stratum 
of grass and mud upon which she deposits some 
more eggs. Thus she proceeds until she has 
laid from 100 to 200 eggs. The eggs in the 
course of time are hatched by the sun, assisted 
by the heat which the decomposition of the 
vegetable material generates. As soon as they 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 247 

have ‘ chipped the shell ’ the baby alligators 
are led to the water by the mother who pro- 
vides them with food which she disgorges, show- 
ing much anxiety for their safety. At this early 
period of their existence they are exposed to 
many dangers, being a favorite prey of turtles 
and fishes.’’ 

Another authority tells us that the laying sea- 
son may he in any month from January until 
September, hut that most of the eggs are laid 
in June. However many eggs the lady ’gator 
may lay the greatest number found in any one 
nest thus far has been forty-eight. The period 
of incubation is eight weeks — that is, it takes 
eight weeks for the eggs to hatch. 

Now here’s something you may believe or not, 
as you please, hut it is stated by one who may 
he trusted. The young alligators whine like 
puppies and follow their mothers, into the water 
like chicks. Albert M. Eeese, Syracuse Univer- 
sity, in an article written for the Smithsonian 
Miscellaneous Collections, Vol. XLVIII, Wash- 
ington, 1907, informs us that the young, when 
about to hatch, make a curious, squeaking sound 


248 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

in the shell, probably to attract the mother. 

It is possible that that is the reason the 
lady dragon of Charles City came bulging out 
of the water when Snag Perkins scraped two 
of her eggs together. Who knows? Maybe the 
affectionate widow got the idea that one of her 
babes had just seen the light and needed help 
in getting out of the nest. 

Still another writer, Eugene Murray-Aaron, 
tells about attracting a mother alligator by 
rubbing two eggs together. In this case the 
eggs came from a deserted nest which had sur- 
vived a whole season. These eggs were ‘‘ over 
ripe ’’ hut they got exactly the same results 
that Snag did. 

How old was the lady dragon of Dancing 
Point when she got hers in the spine? That 
is a nice question. Possibly she was not thirty 
at the time she met her death. People used 
to think that alligators grow very slowly and 
that about fifteen years is necessary for them 
to reach a length of two feet, while a twelve- 
foot specimen was supposed to be a patriarch 
over threescore and ten. 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 249 

The lady dragon of Dancing Point evidently 
had fed well and waxed fat. She certainly got 
a neat slice out of the dog Nigger. Her family 
name, according to scientists, was Mrs. Alliga- 
tor Mississipiensis, though, as has been ex- 
plained, she came from Florida. Doubtless she 
had relatives in South Carolina, Georgia, Ala- 
bama, Mississippi and Louisiana, but we’ll not 
go into that. Alligators are not as particular 
about their family trees as the people of Charles 
City and other parts of Virginia. 

The old cow that bellowed in the mud 
and incidentally gave the boys a scare was in 
reality the lady dragon.” Many persons have 
testified to the fact that alligators do bellow, 
or at least make thunderous noises at certain 
seasons. Nobody is fully prepared to say just 
why the Charles City monster took it into her 
head to vex the drowsy ear of night.” While 
this is not a love story, we venture the surmise 
she was mourning her lost mate who perished 
just after he had eaten to the full of dog. 

Alligators, by the way, are dreadfully afraid 
of human beings. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

WE MEET OLD FRIENDS AT A CIRCUS 

If by any chance you had happened to walk 
down the alleys of a certain section of Rich- 
mond on September 12, 1880, your attention 
undoubtedly would have been attracted by the 
number of small boys that popped in and out 
of back gates from time to time. 

It is probable, too, that you would have ob- 
served a good deal of excitement among these 
small boys, and that your senses would have 
told you something unusual was about to take 
place. A closer inspection of gates, fences and 
stable doors would have explained the situation, 
or at least have helped to enlighten you as to 
the unrest, for the woodwork in many places 
was placarded with crudely printed signs. These 
posters, scrawled with colored pencils, showed 
this advertisement: 


250 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 251 


Today at 3 P. M. 

GREATEST CIRCUS ON EARTH 

Admishun 10 Sents Only Gals Free 

Willingham and Perkins 
(Sometimes Called Ham and Snag by Them As 
Knows Them) 

offers a Marvelous Exhibition of 
THE WORLD’S WONDERS 


in the Stable Loft of Mr. Henry Clay Perkins, 
the retail grocer 
C-O-M-E A-N-D S-E-E 
The Three-Legged Dog 

The Game Rooster That Ain’t Never Been Licked 
The Foot of a Bear Preserved in Alkerhol 
Skin of The Famus Charles City Lady Dragon 
The Teeth and Eggs of An Orful Monster 
and 

The Blood-Kurdlin AcJct 
where Messrs. Willingham and Perkins, without 
weepons or other means of defeanse, enter 
a com bin containin nine live 
M-A-N E-A-T-I-N A-L-L-I-G-A-T-O-R-S 


252 The Boys* Big Game Series 

Needless to say that every boy in the neigh- 
borhood who could raise ten cents by begging, 
by promises of future good behavior, or by sell- 
ing old rags, bones and discarded metalware 
to the junk shops, attended the circus. As we 
ourselves, alas, are hard up for cash these days, 
it will not be our privilege to join the young- 
sters in the stable loft of Mr. Henry Clay Per- 
kins, father of our enterprising little friend, 
Jefferson Davis Perkins. 

But most of us, fortunately, have already 
seen a majority of the features offered by the 
showmen. We recognize Nigger and Billy Ma- 
hone and the skin of the Lady Dragon, while 
we likewise suspect that we are more or less 
familiar with the teeth and eggs of the ‘‘ orful 
monster.’’ 

As for the bear’s foot preserved in alker- 
hol,” we confess that puzzles us a bit. Can it 
be that Snag — it was his ‘‘idea” of course 
— forgot one of the ten commandments and 
called a dog’s paw a bear’s foot? We fear so. 
Such things are sometimes done in advertising. 

Like Mrs. Willingham and Mrs. Perkins, we 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 253 

also should be inclined to weep and wring 
our hands in terror on seeing Ham and Snag 
enter a ‘‘ den with “ nine live, man-eatin’ 
alligators,’’ did we not have inside information 
as to the size of the reptiles. Happily they were 
but eight inches long and weighed only one 
and three-quarters ounces each. 

These awesome saurians were the babes of 
the Lady Dragon of Dancing Point. After the 
death of their mother, they were hatched out 
in a box of sand under the supervision of the 
two showmen who exhibited them. For some 
weeks after the circus they survived, being fed 
with cockroaches and Juneybugs served from the 
point of a darning needle, but death finally came 
to relieve the helpless orphans. During the 
‘‘ blood kurdlin’ ackt ” so skillfully advertised 
they made no attempt to devour the showmen. 

Of course Ham and Snag made big money 
off the circus. Who would have missed it? But 
after all, money was no object ” with them. 
What they wanted was glory. Those were flush 
times. The recovery of the missing bonds had 
restored the fortunes of the Willinghams and 


254 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

put Uncle Ben on Easy Street for the rest of 
his life. The rebel veteran is now very, very 
old but altogether happy. As might be expected 
he still has a wooden leg and chews tobacco. 

Gideon Morganfield, the ‘‘ bad egg ’’ of this 
story, was never brought to justice; he perished 
in a railroad accident three years after the 
events we have related. Nor were any of the 
other ‘‘ resurrectionists ’’ convicted, though they 
certainly deserved some punishment. At that 
time, however, there were few other ways of 
procuring bodies for purposes of dissection, so 
the grave-robbing industry to some extent was 
necessarj^ The public probably realized this, 
and therefore bore easily on those who followed 
the hideous vocation. 

It is hard to say good-bye to Ham and Snag 
and Buck, the great triumvirate that ‘‘ raised 
sand ’’ in Charles City. Many are the years 
that have passed since they were in at the death 
of the Lady Dragon of Dancing Point, but they 
still live and prosper. Ham is the managing 
editor and part owner of a big newspaper. He 
loves a political fight and is not afraid to write 


The Lady Dragon of Dancing Point 255 

what he thinks. Snag is the president of a suc- 
cessful corporation which long has profited by 
his ‘‘ ideas.’’ As for the Rev. Dr. William 
Clements Timberlake — yes, that’s Buck — he’s 
about the ablest Baptist preacher in Virginia. 
The women adore him. He never sits down 
to a Sunday dinner without having the house- 
wife help him to the leg and breast of the 
chicken, and he knows what to do with them, 
too. 

'Don’t ask any questions about noble old Nig- 
ger, the black dog with the snow-white soul. To 
Ham and Snag and Buck he is one of the sweet- 
est memories of the long ago, and it is comfort- 
ing to know that he lived happily for years 
after his experiences with the alligator. Fur- 
thermore his license tax was always religiously 
paid after the year 1880. Somewhere in a cer- 
tain garret in Richmond, Nigger’s paw still 
reposes in a jar of alcohol, and near it, all 
covered with dust, is the battered hide of the 
lady dragon. Time has reconciled these two 
ghastly souvenirs to each other. 

Billy Mahone, the silver duckwing, was never 


256 The Boys^ Big Game Series 

whipped until he met the conqueror of all liv- 
ing things — Death. Four hundred and sixty- 
two of his descendants — dozens of them gallant 
birds like their knightly great-great-great- 
grandpa — still survive. So even now it will 
not be difficult to arrange a good cockfight in 
Virginia. It would be a crime, however, to let 
the roosters ‘‘ knock without having as their 
witnesses Mr. Hamilton Bacon Willingham, Mr. 
Jetferson Davis Perkins and — we whisper this 
— the Rev. William Clements Timberlake. 





■ . d I . 




i 



i 

1 ' 




\ \ i 


\ 

} 


i 




t 







J 


■'l 

* 


4 


\ 


\ 


\ 


1 







UBRARY OF CONGRESS 



DOQEliaiDflO 


• * * 9 t * • 




•■■•i.* •••* ' «•»■••* • »"*^*.^* * .* 

'• * • •• - * « • • *«. %•« •##. • • 

r »* ^ j I • • • *.,". **»*. 








V • . -V ^ ^ t 

. ,' 7 ^ • . • . ♦ » 7 ^ - .•-»,. . . - ^ 

. • . . • 7 * //. . * /. 4 \ 

- •/ VV-. .• •• 7 

• • ^ ^ • ♦» #4*«*#*'»* * '*— * _ A** 4 •• • • • ••* ^ • ♦•♦*» • •• *• •• •• ♦ »** 

• *«•• *•.•, ^ . * • - • ^ - •f !.•%♦. — • 44 ^. «•• ' ♦* .♦-•» •• - •*- 

, \ - • 7 ^ \ . .. 744 . 4 

• ^ 4 -4 • ♦ ♦— • • • ^ f » •* •-• .444444»P4 •**' 7- . ^ A •.•••♦•• ••%••••• «• 4.-'. 

4 i ♦ ♦-« ^•44* * \ • • • ♦ ♦ *• ^ 7 A* .• . t 4 • 4 7^ • • - • ... 

►^♦*•'*7 • ♦ ♦ ♦♦* ;«** *4 • *-4 • ♦♦ 4*.* *4* •* 4" 7 • •' *.*74* 7* - " . ^ 7 I ' 

4 « 4 ^ ^ 7 7 77 7 .* * •*.*/.* 7 %* 7. 7 ^ . *4 #., •..». ** .«., 

*««» 


4 • * . • • 

• . • • • 


•7^7i%*77«" 7 • 7 7 7777 4 7 7 7 7 7 7 p* • 7 •’ 7 7 7 77 p't* •*. 4 . ♦ 44 * ..t** ♦.• •• 

. 7«k «44«-«r'*t-^««»l«4 • .4 4 4 4 4 • ♦ • 4 « 4 • » * 4 4^ * *,• \ \ * *777 ".*.’.*-*. . '.’ , . - . * 

i4f-4<»4V4^» » • ••P •• •^**.'-*.'.'4 .*. P# # . - •• - . ••• .♦ » . • ♦• 4 ♦ •• • 4 . .44 ...k.4 

.V-V7’«7 C^*v^^^^X-^>^^*. v/- 

v*i*7XX«'*Vv*'*.*"**V.%^oV.*.*,*»w**.*'*-^v. *.*.■’. ■ •***.'•* »% ♦***'/*“'.‘l’*' '.** '. !' !'1*1‘ /*■,.’!' *'■. 

« 'Va*.!* ♦*/.-•• A • - ♦ . - ... A - .A.-, '.’ ■ 

r. 4 ^ ♦ ♦♦. ♦ ♦ • 4 - •* -4 ♦ ^ 4 A 4 4 . 4 4 4 * • - -/ 7 • • • •. •.* *- *.•. 4*4 4*4 *•* 4* SBS^WSWS^^SK 

,V7^’^4V«V-.^ 7 7 7.’.*774*-V774V4*7.V74*4 ••4*4’74*7/4". . 7 • • • 4 4 . • . - • • • jaog^^©rf?C^3D 





^-.v a‘ .•.SaVa \ v'.. • A- A- .•.^*.VA:,v.^y.:.y^^;.^;.^^^• -. .•.•.• ■ '.*. , 


% • • .«^4 • 4 A^ 4 « * 




$4 0-9 .««»»• *4 4 . 4 4 4444P4 

#A.^ 4 44«4.444A«4**4'4 .y«P>««*44^44« 

• .4«*«« •4«««4 «««. . 44^ 

• .4*»4.444 4PP.«4-444-.*44-4.»4* 


»««44^44 4*4 4A.4--4 .••- 

•44««»4« *9 - 4 •••■ 

4. 444 •4»««*A •^•44.* 4 «».• 

.4*4. w4«. «4«^*44 • 4» »•• 


• A4 '4 4»44 44» • • 4 ‘ 4^* 4*4 

.«.M4i*4 # A««4« •*'•••4 • w • 4p«« 

« «4«44 4 44* • • 4» 

^•.«44 .♦*4 4>A4 4 *4 ♦ .4 444, »4^44 

4^*4 «« 4^ * »4 •# •• •• 4*'4 »♦ 


« 4 • 

« . I * « 4 ^ • 1 


.••% 4 «« 4 ^ 4 *« 

• ^ 44 ^ 4 « 4 » 4 >*« 












. 4 .. .A'» .aA.-... «.Aa .A,.. - AA ••»...•, .•A**;* - *, '*.•••. .' ' *.* ’. ' *•'.' • • . > 

. r , 

*.v. v.vV*.’ '.‘.‘V • vV.'VVVV.' . 

444 44 ♦«4#*«^4#4-*4 S44«-44»*«»4%»**4*» ^’- .V a - a . L .*. 

1^4%. .♦%^*4,44*k^4444*4.4%»*4,fc*.4»*4s «* • •••%• 'a a - . - 4 , •• 

4 '% 4 •« 444 4 44H4 4 444 •* s m 4 t 4 < • > « *. 4 • 4 • 0 4 4 4 • • . .k . AA'_ a a 

i.4 %^k i A* 4^ 4 .4 4 4 ^4 4* 4» « 44 14 • 4 • • I 4 * • • * » •. .•*' * ^ . * . . - 4 i .'.^ 

^v^^‘."^*^^X^‘.’!*.'^'^^'^X^^ V.' v!v A ’ \ ■*'.• ■ - ^ S 


•:4 *• * «^»^A 




